#normally i’m a side sleeper but there’s no way to sleep on my left side because it makes my permacramp act up

[ookaookaooka]

least favorite thing about getting older so far is that there is 1 sleep position that is comfortable for the whole night and even that has approximately a 30% chance of giving me neck and/or back pain the next day

[moodymisty]

Would you be up for writing a tech fic where he realizes he has a breeding kink? Or maybe the reader figures it out for him 😏

Author's note: Babe I’m so sorry I left you in my inbox so long lmao here have Tech’s banana going bananas as forgiveness (Headcanon: All the clones have some degree of breeding kink in them because Jango Fett's genes be wildin')

Relationships: Tech/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Breeding kink, Mentions of pregnancy and pregnancy adjacent things but not ACTUAL pregnancy, Ovulation kink technically, Unprotected sex, Tech being a nerdy little weirdo(said with affection)

Normally, you’d call yourself a pretty average sleeper. Not too light, and not completely dead. So it’s odd when you find yourself awake in the middle of the night, having just been roused by seemingly nothing. Tech is asleep beside you, laid out and taking advantage of your large bed by spreading his limbs out comfortably.

Your bed is normal sized by your standards but Tech- who's used to sleeping in military bunks and chairs, finds it quite grandiose. Any time he's here you always notice the way he stretches out, especially now so as he lays on his back, blankets resting just over his stomach.

Meanwhile you're fully awake tossing and turning, skin on fire as you groan. It echoes in the almost silent room, feeling stuffy and hot and oversensitive.

It all centers in the pit of your stomach; Cunt throbbing as your thighs rub together underneath the blankets.

Any attempt you make to press your thighs together until it goes away fails, as does the futile attempt of diving your hand beneath the blanket to slip between your outer lips, feeling how they're wet along with the gusset of your underwear.

Both attempts do nothing to soothe the way you ache to have something inside of you, and if anything really only serve to make the urge worse.

It’s what has you whining and rolling to your other side, pressing your lips against Tech’s bare shoulder. He doesn’t stir; As he can be quite the heavy sleeper at times. So looking up at his face you whisper against his skin, as if hoping to plant the idea in his head and void any responsibility.

“Tech…” You whisper, and instantly see him twitch in response. But he doesn’t wake up right away, until your lips are slowly trailing up to the vein of his neck, leaving kisses and soft nips.

“Is something the matter?” One of his hands is now against your back, warm through the fabric of your nightdress. His voice doesn't sound incredibly sleepy, but you can tell by the way his eyes are slightly hooded that he's still only one foot in the waking world.

“I need you to fuck me, please.”

You’re pushing the blankets away before he can say anything, moving to straddle his hips and grind your absolutely aching cunt against his cock only covered by the thin pants he wore to bed. Feeling his hands on the small of your back they’re resting there, feeling the way you grind on him. The way you're so desperately whining sparks something in him, watching your sleepy and wobblily body move on top of him.

He responds when your chest is pressed against his, smothering his neck in kisses and bites as he speaks up. Your hands are wrapped in the short curls of his hair, and even though you’re absolutely smothering him with sloppy kisses, he still manages to speak out a completely technical sentence.

“Your hormones are clouding your senses.”

“And how do you know that?” You don't really mean it as an actual question, as you smother the side of his jaw in kisses; A few will surely leave a mark.

“Because I have your ovulatory cycle memorized.” You pull back just enough to look at his face, neck shining from the sloppy kisses you've left on his skin.

“Tech, that’s… A little weird.”

For divulging such an odd statement he does a good job of bringing you away from it, his hands on your hips sliding up to your waist and bringing you back down so he can kiss you this time.

But you’ve barely given him enough time to become fully awake before you’re attempting to pull down his pants, and he kicks them fully off underneath the blankets. You meanwhile only had on your nightdress and some thin underwear, the panties being peeled off and thrown aside in seconds. You quickly noticed the significant wet spot you’d left on them. By the time your cunt presses back against him Tech is already half hard; From your constant humping on him since you’d woken him up. Groaning and clearing his throat, he marvels at the way your pussy so smoothly slides along his cock.

You feel so wet; He wonders how long you’ve been aroused, as his cock is already coated slick from just a few motions of your hips.

“Hand me my,” He gestures towards the bedside table where his goggles are sitting, and you quickly reach over to grab them. He hurries to pull them on, watching your vague silhouette becomes crisp again.

By the time he's pulling them haphazardly onto his face you have his cock in your hand, lowering yourself onto him and let out a desperate moan as he fills you. Once he's halfway inside your hands move to his chest, leaning on them just a bit. His teeth grit together and hands grasp tightly at your hips, letting out a drowsy, sleepy moan as he finally bottoms out inside of you.

“Is this what you needed, love?”

There's only one light on in the corner of the room, barely enough to illuminate your silhouette even with his goggles on. But he can see the way your eyelids struggle to stay open, slackjawed as you beg and plead for more.

“Yes! Yesyesyesyes please, Maker this feels good-“

You're louder than usual Tech quickly notices; So many more little whines and mewls as your lip gets caught between your teeth. His hands stay on your hips, forcing you to grind down on his cock for all it’s worth and listening to the way you get even louder.

“You’re so wet; You really needed this, didn’t you.” Instead of answering you moan, too far gone.

"Fuck, Tech harder..." He'd never refuse you, but he really can't when you ask him, beg him so sweetly for his cock.

It's not like you can do anything about it, your body is just fogging your brain and it needs release.

He’s never thought about it until now; That your body is hot and begging to be pregnant, and he’s the one who can give it to you.

It puts a larger jolt down his spine that he expects, the thought of your stomach larger and chest swelled because of him; His baby.

Tech is one of the few people who knows the rumors about the clones being sterile aren’t true, so he knows the idea is technically possible.

It has his hands tightening around your hips, his mind reeling as you straddle him.

He guesses that your chest will be sensitive, so one hand slips up your body below your nightdress and gently pulls at your nipple, watching the way you moan loudly. He loves the feeling of knowing your body so well; Of knowing exactly what you want.

Desperately grinding against him your clit throbs as it presses against his hips, he watches with his new fantasy in his head while your hands drag across his stomach.

"Do you want me to come inside of you?" He says, watching you nod as your eyes flutter closed.

"Yes! Yes! Fuck, Tech just do it already," He doesn't know if he'd even have been able to handle if it you refused; He already feels so close from the mere idea of filling you, breeding you, has him barely cognizant of anything else.

You're so pent up it doesn't take long for you to cum, body slowing but Tech's hands forcing you to continue moving a little against him. You don't even try to hide your moan, head lolled back as your cunt tightens around him. He can feel the way the juices of your cunt are leaking all over him, as his nails dig into the skin of your hips.

Head pressing into the plush pillows underneath him he can happily fulfill your plea, as the way you've been bouncing on his lap so desperately has had him so close for ages now. He's much quieter than you were, hissing between his gritted teeth as he fills you, your hips stopping completely. He can feel your nails lightly scratching at his stomach, and your pleased whines hit his ears.

Part of him really hopes the neighboring apartments don't hear either of you given the time of night- but most of him, and all of you, don't care.

After your heart stops pounding blood in your ears you're still straddling him, honestly not even knowing what came over you and how quickly it had. It had started as just being a little horny though once you had a taste of him...

But at least for now, you're tired and well fucked again.

As you pull off his cock he instantly feels the way his own cum leaks from you, dripping from your sweet cunt. The sigh you let out now is a lot softer, as if you're almost relieved. You probably are, and Tech in a little part of his brain sympathizes with the way you can't fight some of the more primal aspects of your body. He'll always help you, especially the way you beg him so sweetly.

It's also something he's now more than eager to do some research on and try again, wondering where this could lead. But at the moment, the two of you are far too tired to do anything more.

He swears he sees light just starting to leak through the curtains, unless his eyes are betraying him. He manages to peel himself from the bed to clean himself off really quick, however it seems you have no intentions of doing so; Having flopped onto your stomach and laid out almost dead tired again. He'd normally get on you about it but, you look too sweet so frazzled and worn out like this. Because of him.

“Sleep, I will still be here in the morning.” He feels the way your body presses against him the moment he's comfortable, finally tired again and falling asleep.

He knows without a doubt you’ll want more of him in the morning, something that gives him a small surge of pride as he adjusts the fabric of your nightdress a tad before pulling off his goggles and closing his eyes.

[callsignspark]

soft-tober | 01 | Javy Machado

soft-tober is about experiencing the joys of October with loved ones. each day is a fall-related one-shot for one of the couples from my Dagger, Sword & Shield universe, plus a few extras! today is Javy and Erin with "Do you want some hot chocolate?" from this prompt list.

If you’d like to be tagged for soft-tober, please send an ask!

word count: 1k

soft-tober masterlist | main masterlist | divider credit here

warnings: extreme fluff, mentions of being naked but nothing nsfw

callsignspark disclaimer: my blog is an 18+ space; minors do not interact - you will be blocked. I do not consent to my work being copied, run through an AI generator, translated, or posted elsewhere. I do have an AO3, where I eventually will be cross-posting my works.

01. “Do you want some hot chocolate?”

The beeping of the alarm clock rouses both of them, as it has every morning since they started sharing a room. And like every morning since then, Javy presses a kiss to whatever part of Erin’s face isn’t smushed into her pillow before silencing the alarm. She’s back asleep before he can get up to go through his pre-run routine. Double-check the weather report. Stretch. Make a post-run smoothie.

Today, he doesn’t even get to the first step.

Instead of sunlight streaming through the windows, rain is pelting the glass, making their room chilly. Javy lays there for a minute, two halves of him arguing whether it’s really necessary to run this morning. He knows he should. It’s his third year being a TOP GUN instructor, and while he’s still in fantastic shape, it’s very slowly getting trickier to keep up with the kids he’s teaching.

Ultimately, with a promise to do half an hour on the treadmill later, the side that’s arguing to stay under the warm covers with his girlfriend wins. He rolls towards her, staring at her freckled face and chuckling to himself at the way her face is mushed against his pillow that she’d somehow stolen during the night, a tiny puddle of drool staining the fabric. Something only he finds adorable.

Erin Messuri is a lot of things - smart, funny, caring - but she is not a pretty sleeper. Javy learned that soon after she became his roommate. That first week, after she moved into the room that had previously been Jake’s, he was stumped as to how someone so beautiful could wake up looking like she fought someone in her sleep and then, within 20 minutes, be completely ready for the day. Then she fell asleep on the couch one night after dinner, and Javy watched in real time as she contorted herself into the most uncomfortable position he’d ever seen and immediately started snoring.

Looking back, he realizes that’s probably the moment he fell in love with her. Though he didn’t realize it for several months.

“You’re still here.” Erin’s voice is soft, and if it wasn’t for the fact that he watched her mouth move, he wouldn’t have known she was awake.

“It’s too chilly to run this morning.” He leans forward, pulling the covers down to kiss her shoulder, still bare from last night's activities. “Wanted to stay with you.”

She hums, shifting to her side so they’re pressed chest to chest. “Well, I’m not complaining. I never get to wake up with you during the week.”

The words have barely left her mouth before her head goes heavy against his arm, asleep again. Javy smiles to himself, brushing a soft hand over her hair and pressing a kiss to his girlfriend’s head.

Soon to be fiancée.

The little voice in his head reminds him, making his eyes dart to the dresser, picturing the black velvet box hidden in the back of the drawer that holds his flight suits. The one drawer Erin never goes in because the lingering jet fuel smell can irritate her asthma.

A tiny irrational fear that something has happened to the simple silver band with a blue sapphire gemstone, the stone representing the month they met, causing him to check on it once or twice a day. He likes to think he’s been relatively normal and calm since purchasing the ring, but he’s not sure how successful he’s been. He knows he’s been better than Jake, who was so twitchy that Flora figured out what was going on two days after the piece of gold jewelry that she now wears every day was purchased.

Javy lets them lay there until Erin’s first alarm - the first of five - goes off, smothering a laugh at how she rolls over and smacks at the alarm clock until it stops beeping without ever fully waking up.

“C’mon, baby; if you get up with me right now, I’ll give you a special treat.”

“No, thank you; you gave me a special treat last night.”

This time, he can’t stop the laughter. Laughing even harder when she rolls over, shooting a grumpy look at him, one that would be more effective if she wasn’t naked with her hair sticking up.

“Well, as special as last night’s treat was, I was thinking more along the sustenance route. Waffles and something a little different. Do you want some hot chocolate?”

“Coffee.”

“No hot chocolate?” Javy teases. Erin loves chocolate, but as long as they’ve known each other, she’s never started the day without coffee.

“What if you made me a homemade Dunkaccino?”

He blinks at her. “What the fuck is a Dunkaccino? Is this some stupid East Coast thing?”

“First of all, you’re also from the East Coast, Mr. Florida Man.”

“I am from New Orleans! Being born in Florida is an unfortunate circumstance that I could not control!”

“Second!” She continues, talking over him as she climbs into his lap, awake now that he’s got her riled up. “Nothing made by Dunkin’ Donuts is stupid - you’ve just been deprived. Third-”

Erin squeaks as Javy flips them over, the two laughing as he hovers over her and presses slow kisses against her neck and collarbones.

“Third, a Dunkaccino is a delicious combination of coffee and hot chocolate that is the perfect way to warm up on a rainy October day, but they stopped making it years ago.”

“Mmmm… I can probably finagle something like that together for you, ma’am.”

“Really?”

“Of course. No promises if it’ll be good.”

“Well, as long as there’s still regular coffee, that’s a risk I’m willing to take.” Her eyes twinkle at him, making his heart pound after all these years.

“God, I love you.” Javy kisses her, probably a little too passionately considering it’s before seven on a Tuesday, but he can’t help it. Overcome by her and her smile, her laugh, her dependence on caffeine that should probably be concerning but isn’t considering her job.

Erin pulls back, her cheeks a little pink from the intensity of the kiss. “I love you, too.”

He almost breaks, almost asks her to marry him right there and then, ruining the surprise engagement he has planned for next month, but she interrupts him before he can.

“Javy?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I still need the coffee, no matter how you end up presenting it to me.”

“On it.” Mrs. Machado, he adds silently, pressing one more kiss to her lips before pulling on his shorts and heading to the kitchen, closing out the browser tab he was using to research local photographers in favor of figuring out how to best combine coffee and hot chocolate to make something that actually tastes good.

@gretagerwigsmuse | @hangmanapologist | @hangmanbrainrot | @princessphilly | @hangmanssunnies | @thesewordsareallihavetogive | @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby | @katieshook02 | @hellojameshowyadoin | @aristotles-butthole | @atarmychick007 | @whatislovevavy | @kmc1989 | @sometimesanalice | @laracrofted | @yuckosworld | @mika-darling | @bradshawsbaddie | @bobblebobsbae | | @ohtobeleah | @withahappyrefrain

[blushyeleven]

Tickletober - DAY 1

Anticipation

ITS TICKLETOBER!! AHHH, im gonna try my best to keep up with all the fics😭 all of them have Jenna Ortega in them.. js maybe as a different character💀 but anyways.. happy tickletober everybody! <3

characters: lee!enid x ler!wednesday

Warnings: tickles, threats

𝑹𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓

“I’d sleep with one eye open if I were you” the sentence that left chills running down enids spine. It was inevitable. Enid couldn’t sleep that night, thinking about her ticklish fate. The biggest problem was it could be any day, any hour, any second. So she took Wednesdays suggestion, and infact, did sleep with one eye open. She shuddered at the thought of Wednesdays revenge. She knew it was coming but she just didn’t know when and that thought scared her the most

Naturally, she avoided Wednesday as much as she could, keeping small talk only when necessary and always being aware. It was Wednesdays favourite game, anticipation. She evilly snickered in her own head when she saw that enid was being extra cautious around her. It brought her some twisted joy in a way. Enid knew she was going to get tickled. Just a matter of when.. and where.

Wednesday wasn’t acting any different then she normally did, which scared enid more. She was just her normal, dark and monotone self. Almost like she forgot about her little devious plan.. but enid knew better. This was all a facade in her warped and sadistic game.

Enid was never one to absolutely hate being tickled but it was a little hard to be excited about something when you didn’t know it was about to face you.

Enid came through the wooden door to her shared dorm and quickly threw herself onto her bed. “Hello enid.” Wednesday replied, not actually facing the werewolf. Instead she was sat at her desk. “h-hey!” Enid stuttered slightly. “You seem a little.. shaken up.. you okay?” Wednesday asked with a twinge of evil in her voice, smirking to herself. “yup!.. all is fine!” Enid tried her best to not look intimidated by the goth girl, but Wednesday didn’t even have to look at the girl to know she was panicky. “Okay.. if you say so.” Again, the sinister tone lingered in her voice. Wednesday was clearly taunting the poor girl, she found it amusing.

2 days past and enid was still tickle-free. She was beginning to ponder how long this would last for. Did Wednesday really forget? (spoiler alert: ofcourse she didn’t) well, only time would tell. To tell the truth, enid was usually a very heavy sleeper. But with this awakening nightmare, it caused her usual heavy sleep to become very light and lucid. Quickly tiring enid out. A silly mistake really, but enid decided to go back to the dorm and have a nap. Just to recharge herself and bring up her energy levels and it was a bonus, wednesday wasn’t there. And it was soon enough before enids eyes closed and fell into a peaceful sleep.

Until she jolted awake at the sound of a door shutting, she didn’t know how long she was passed out for..but there she was, the goth pigtailed girl herself. “wow, somebody’s jumpy..” Wednesday mused seeing the startled look on the blondes face. “yeah I-..” enid rubbed her eyes. Not feeling as tired. She was right, the nap did help.

Until Wednesday looked at enid, her expression was unreadable as she started walking closer. Enids eyes widened and nervously shuffled back in her seat untill Wednesday was practically infront of her “Wednesday! I’m- I- I’m sorry!!” She clenched her eyes shut waiting for the amazing dreaded feeling to start.. but to her surprise Wednesday reached out her hand to fix a strand of enids hair that was sticking up. “You really are skittish” Wednesday smirked. Enid let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding “I wonder why..” Wednesday ended that rhetorical question with a squeeze to werewolf’s side, causing her to jump and let out a squeal.

That’s when the blonde realised, the imaginary timer above her head had reached 0 and Wednesdays just smirked and began squeezing at her side rapidly. Enid fell into squeaky laughter, trying to bat at Wednesdays hand. “Wahahait-“ “for what?” Wednesday mused and then climbed on enids bed and started scribbling after her sides. Enid squirmed and kicked but it was no use, the pigtailed girls hands still managed to find their way onto her sides. “IHIHIM SOHOHORRY!!” She shrieked. “I accept your apology enid, but no good deed goes unpunished” wednesday replied mischievously. “BAHAHAHAHAH!!” Enid was barking out laughter and thrashing about. Wednesday then moved her evil fingers up to enids ribs. “poor puppy has been nervous around me for 2 days, well, your getting what you deserve now” she cooed. “YOHOHOUR MEHEHEHAN!” Enid exclaimed through her helpless giggle fit.

“Well, can you blame me for believing in revenge?.. although It took a while.. this was definitely worth the wait” Wednesdays tone was extremely teasy, it was worse that all her words were spoken flatly with an edge of playfulness. Making enids face react with a pericing blush, painting her cheeks. “AHAHAHHAHAHAHA I CAHAHANNTTT!!” Wednesdays fingers then crawled their way up to enids armpits, clawing mercilessly at them. “BAHAHAHAHHA NOHOHOHO!! AHAHAH! DOHOHONNTT!!!! STOOHOHOHOHOPPP!!” Enid was howling with laughter, just letting it flow out of her mouth and filling the air. “Don’t stop? See.. I had my suspicions that you liked this and I guess I now know for sure” wednesday smirked and watched enids blush intensity. “SHUHUT UHUP!! YOU KNOHOW I DIDNT MEHEAN IHIT LIKE THAHAT!!” Enid tried her best to put up a protest and protect her secret, but who she was trying to pretext her secret from was the problem. If Wednesday wanted to find something out, she would. Plus it was painfully obvious. The blushing, the smiling the provoking. It was all little signs that enid did infact enjoy being tickled.

“well.. I wouldn’t put it past you.. it seems like something you would enjoy” Wednesday stated, skittering her fingers against enids stomach. “WHAHATS THAHAT SUPPOSE TO MEHEAN?” If she could, enid would look fake offended right now, but it was practically impossible through her outbursts of laughter. “It simply means that tickling is just something you, out of all people, would find enjoyable” Wednesday rephrased her statement. “SHUHUT UHUHHUPP!!” Is all enid could reply to that because it was true. Wednesday could pull the truth out of anybody. She was basically a walking, talking lie detector. And then came the dreaded question, the question that nobody could avoid. “Am I wrong?” The goth girl replied smugly. Enid thought it would be better to not reply then to agree with her so she just let herself laugh “now, I would say your silence is deafening but it’s not silent if your giggling like a toddler.” Her smug tone drove enid over the edge, it some how made her more ticklish. I guess Wednesday just had that affect on people. Untill suddenly Wednesdays hands moved back to enids armpits, seeing as it brought out the best reaction of her. Digging her black painted fingernails tigjt into enids hollows. “BAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH YOUR EHEVIL!!” “guilty as charged” Wednesday knew she was cruel. She never denied it or was upset about it. She actually enjoyed it. Enids laughter soon became more stretched out and breathy, her eyes watering. All classic signals that showed Wednesday her victim was close to their breaking point. Wednesday was cruel and cold-hearted, but she wasn’t that sadistic, not towards enid anyway. She saved that kind of sadism for her bother, pugsley. “AHAH.. AHAAHAHA… BAHAHAAH” enid was desperately trying to catch her breath through her hysterics, her glassy eyes letting water drip out of them slightly from laughing so hard. And that’s when Wednesday stopped. Retrieving her hands and letting enid sit up. The blonde girl was gasping for air but had the stupidest smile wiped across her face. To which Wednesday rolled her eyes and got up from her vibrant rainbow bed “I hope you’ve learned your lesson” she then started walking back to her side of the divided room. Enid was left sat there, breathless.

“Oh and sinclair, if you try to exact another tickle attack on me, I’ll lock you in my secret dungeon and leave you to rot” enid shuddered at that and didn’t attempt to tickle Wednesday again.. (another spoiler alert: she lasted 4 days, and ofcourse Wednesday got her revenge.. again..)

[felicianacariocapistoles]

Epilogue

I said it before and I'll say it again, we were robbed of a reunion of Marcy and Simon so I made one! I'll post it on my ao3 soon

Days. For several days Simon hasn’t received texts, calls, nor was he even home! According to locals, his home exhibit had been closed since before he left to go questing with Finn. Marcy flew all over Ooo countless times, searching everywhere for him. She never stopped no matter how tired she was. After thousands of years, she finally had her surrogate father back in her life! Why did he disappear without saying anything to her? Ugh! She should have taken a moment to go outside and take the call!

When she realized she was too tired to go on, she headed back to his home, using the spare key he gave her years ago to let herself in and she made herself at home where she plopped herself on the couch and had a good, long cry before drifting off to sleep. She would continue her search after resting and getting her strength back.

Simon had recently returned to Ooo from his adventures with Fionna and Cake and managing to find and apologize to Betty for his actions so many years ago. It hurt that they parted ways, she was his everything after all. It was needed though, for both of them. For the first time in a long time, Simon felt alive instead of just going through the motions of day-to-day life, it was enough to make him smile as he made his way back to the Human City and then to his home.

Simon kicked off his shoes when he got through the door and was making his way to his room when he heard the opening song to Cheers playing on the television, seeing the door of his bedroom opened. He honestly didn’t recall if he left it on or his bedroom door open, it felt like it had been ages since he’s been back with everything he’s been through. Looking around, nothing looked out of place or stolen so he obviously wasn’t robbed. “Most likely left in on before I started sulking in the shower…”

Taking off his jacket, he hung it up before making his way to his room. All he wanted now was to sleep, even though it was still daytime. ‘Last time I slept decently was that nap I took in baby world with baby—’ He snapped out of his thoughts upon seeing movement a familiar figure asleep in his bed. “Marcy…” He was both surprised and happy to see her. Normally she’s a light sleeper, she would have heard him the moment he opened his front door.

Simon saw her phone and he couldn’t help but to glance over when he saw it ring with a text message. It was from Princess Bubblegum telling her that they’ll find Simon soon and to not give up hope again. It broke his heart to read that, and now it all made sense why she didn’t wake up as she normally would. She must have been looking all over Ooo for him, and it pained him that he had once again hurt the girl he had raised and loved like a daughter.

Watching her sleep brought him back to his earlier thought. In the baby universe, he was taking a nap with a baby Marceline snuggling into his chest. Thinking of it brought a tear to his eye, but he wiped it off quickly. He mulled over whether to wake her or not, he had no idea how long she had been asleep for, but knowing Marceline she would have been up for days searching until she could no longer move. His fearless sweet Marceline… His daughter.

He snapped out of his thoughts when he saw that Marceline was waking up, he smiled and got on the other side of the bed. “Marcy, I’m home. I’m okay.”

Hearing his voice caused Marceline to quickly sit up and turn to him, rubbing her eyes and blinking a few times. Whether to properly wake herself up or to really make sure she wasn’t dreaming, Simon wasn’t sure of, until she tackled him and hugged him tight that is. “You’re okay!” She said in relief through her tears.

“Oh, Marcy…” He rubbed her back soothingly as he hugged her back just as tight. “I’m sorry to have disappeared for so long, and I have so much to tell you…”

The two stayed like that for a few more minutes, partly because Marceline was still crying, but also because neither of them wanted to let go of the other. It was the vampire who pulled back and spoke first. “Simon, I should have taken your call, I’m--”

Simon placed a finger on her lips. “Nope, I don’t wanna hear it.” He smiled, removing the finger from his lips, using it to wipe some tears from her eye. “You have nothing to apologize for, Marceline.”

He told her everything that happened from his little adventure with Finn to seeing GLOBetty, he didn’t leave a single thing out. Gone were they days of him keeping her in the dark, it was something else he promised himself upon coming home.

“I’m glad that you got closure, Simon.” She smiled but couldn’t help but to feel a bit sad when she heard the pair broke it off. She knew how much Simon loved Betty. “I’m also glad to hear that you’re ready to move on and live, though I am still pissed you never told me any of this pent-up feelings you’ve had for years.” She playfully punched him in the arm.

Simon rubbed his arm. “Yeah, I had the feeling Finn wanted me to talk to you about it too.”

“That cheeseball, I can’t believe he took you on a quest! He should know you’re too old for that stuff!”

The two shared a laugh and another hug. It was good to be home.

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

how or when do sp characters sleep

My DUDE these are pretty much overarching takes but since u just commented on an OrangeJuiceVerse post I’m ESPECIALLY thinkin ojv on these! So I’m doin the Star Seven

Stan falls asleep anywhere anytime. Always. One of those people that climb in bed and are lights out within two seconds. Lucky bastard. He’ll sleep in a car, on a floor, couch, wherever; if he’s tired he’s sleeping and it doesn’t matter where. He may stay up late sometimes with his online dnd group but when everyone logs off he’s Out the moment his head hits the pillow. And he is such a deep sleeper too. Just laid out like a log and needs to be aggressively shaken awake. He’s a realllly good pillow bc he doesn’t move tho.

Kyle is the exact opposite. I’m not gonna say he’s high maintenance, but he’s kinda particular with sleeping conditions. The fan has to be going, it has to be dark, he can’t sleep in socks, there’s gotta be a water bottle in reach, ya know. Also if we are talking OJV, he won’t complain if, like, he’s staying the night on someone’s foldout couch, but he has chronic pain bc he never got proper treatment for an injury in high school, so he has trouble getting comfortable when his knee is bothering him. And!!! In general his mind is so active and he has so much trouble getting it to quiet down enough to sleep, he’s tossing and turning forever, gets too warm, sleeps half out of the blanket, a mess. Wakes up at the drop of a hat, the wind blows too loud outside and he’s awake again. He feels guilty napping during the day, so that only happens when he’s not feeling well.

Kenny, 80% of the time, is like Stan, dead to the world when he’s asleep, but he’s too damn instinctual for his own good and if anyone or anything feels off to him during the day, he can’t fall asleep that night. He’s very much a guy who sleeps curled up on his side, and comfort doesn’t matter a whole lot to him. He has awful dreams frequently though, and sleep paralysis gets him a lot, which sucks when he’s sleeping heavily bc it’s really hard to wake up. Marj can usually sense times like that in the same way she senses his Curse, so she can wake him up to get him out of it.

Marjorine is a pretty normal sleeper, like 10-15 minutes of imagining her mental story (she ain’t alone in the pre sleep scenario I do that always) and she’s drifting off, she’s a cuddly sleeper for sure, which is awesome bc Kenny’s a GREAT little spoon, and if Kenny isn’t there she’s hugging a pillow.

Tweek dear god he is the worst sleeper on the planet. He goes to bed super early most of the time, only to wake up an hour later with no hope of falling asleep again. Like he’ll sleep from around 7-9, be awake until 5, sleep for another hour or so, and then it’s daytime so he can’t sleep bc he’s worried something bad will happen while he’s out. (Btw I am fully pulling Tweek sleep headcanons from myself I am an awful sleeper) He OCCASIONALLY naps, but only by accident. If he tries to take a nap during the day on purpose, he can’t, but when he doesn’t want to, that’s when he gets the best sleep. He has AWFUL dream like his nightmares are so vivid and terrifying and sometimes even prophetic. Even the dreams that aren’t scary are so clear that he’s left confused about if they were real. The scary visions and sleep paralysis are a lot of the reason he’s so paranoid and when it’s been a few days since he’s gotten sleep? The hallucinations dude holy shit.

Craig is kind of a night owl, and he really isn’t a morning person, but once he goes to bed, he’s asleep pretty fast. And he really isn’t picky about where he sleeps or what time it is, he just sleeps. He rarely has dreams that are jarring enough to remember, and while he usually hits the snooze button a few times, he can wake up relatively quickly. Not a napper at ALL this man thrives on routine and consistency. He hardly ever wakes up in the night once he’s out, even with Tweek thrashing around trying to get comfortable beside him lmfao

Cartman. I don’t have a whole lot to say on his sleep habits really, other than he’s out here in one of those eyemasks and a sleep noise playlist going lmaoooo he got the oil diffuser drifting lavender mist into the air and all that. He wakes up to an alarm programmed to play soft music with birds gently chirping bc he likes to feel like a Disney princess in the mornings. Lmfao he’s so unserious I love ojverse cartman

THANK YOU FOR ASKING THIS!!! I had fun thinkin abt it and projecting onto Tweek lol rip gotta love the gnomes

[cherryxcadbury]

prompt 3 for mason 😍

y/n: your name

WARNING: THIS IS V AWFULLY WRITTEN SORRY

2nd person pov

“Y/N hun, did you get the cake?” Your mother asked on the other end of the phone.

“Yeah yeah I’m pulling into the garage right now.” You mumbled as you parked the car in the garage.

“Great thanks. Also heads up, there’s a guest here so mentally prepare yourself I suppose.” You mum added.

You scoffed, “You act like I’m incapable of talking to other adults.”

“You aren’t.” Your dad blurted into your mom’s phone.

“Hey! What do y—oh forget it. I’m coming through the garage door.” You spoke into the phone, trying to balance the cake while squeezing the phone in between your ear and shoulder.

You inwardly cheered as you managed to make your way from the garage to the kitchen without dropping anything. You were tempted to open the cake a snag a piece before laughter from the family room interrupted your devilish choices.

“Company.” You grumbled, hoping it wasn’t anyone too important.

Your gym set (black leggings, cropped black athletic tank and oversized gray zip up) would have to do.

You leaned against the kitchen wall, hoping to be able to decipher the voice on the other side. But alas, it was not meant to be. Shrugging your shoulders, you strode into the family room until you noticed him.

He stopped in the middle of his laughter once he noticed your presence. A smirk made its way onto his face.

“You fucking son of a bi—” You started before your brother, Leo (not Lio Messi) shushed you.

“Y/N. This is my best friend in London, Mason.” Leo smiled, introducing you to apparently, the man who was his best friend.

You’d never met him before, at least that’s what your family thought. Leo had moved to London a few months prior while you opted to stay in Southampton for studies. Mason was one of the good friends he’d gained during his time in the English capital.

You weren’t stupid. You watched football, avidly at that. You knew Mason Mount. What nobody besides you and Mason knew however, was that you two had met before. It was about three months ago, when you were visiting Leo for the first time.

You’d been on your drive back to Southhampton and were stopped at a service station in Croydon for some snacks. You were sleep deprived and exhausted but needed to get home to finish exam studying. You’d spotted your favourite ever, a terrys chocolate orange. There was only one left. Just as you were about to grab it, that wanker did as well.

And though you’re normally tended to be on the quieter side and non confrontational, that man brought out the worst in you. You both fought over it at the back of the store.

Hence solidifying your hatred of the man.

“Lovely to see you again. Hadn’t seen you since our time in the service station.” The smirk growing wider as he spoke.

He was the one who ended up getting that chocolate orange on that fateful night.

“Yeah we—” You began to speak but saw your family shift uncomfortably at the conversation between the two you.

You opted to bring it up later, and begrudgingly sat down as Leo covered up the awkward silence.

hours later***

You sat at the kitchen island huddled over your laptop, you’d now changed into nightwear. This, in your case, happened to be very similar to your regular clothing. An oversized jumper and athletic shorts.

“And so though it ended in chaos, the ancient civilizations of Greece and Persia will forever hold a history beyond that of their fabled tales.” You whispered to yourself as you typed the sentence on your laptop.

It was a last minute history essay which you’d completely forgot about and had began to bullshit at 2 in the morning.

You sighed in relief, realising you’d be able to go to sleep tonight. You were just about to pack up and head to your room for the night before you heard footsteps approaching you.

Weird. Everyone in your family were heavy sleepers, including you.

Unless it wa-wait. Please no.

You grimaced when you saw a tired Mason rubbing his temples looking like a mess. You snickered at the sight.

It took a bit for his eyes to readjust to the light, having the blink a few times upon seeing you.

“Not asleep yet?” He asked you, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

What kind of person drinks coffee at 2 in the morning?

“Had an essay to finish.” You muttered.

“Oh yeah? What about?” Mason asked.

You gazed at him with sceptisim. You found it odd that something like this would pique his interest.

“I don’t suppose you’d know anything about it.” You scoffed.

A lazy smile made its way onto his face.

“Come on Y/N. I thought we were past this.”

“You may be, but me no. Call me a bitch but I hold my grudges.” You spoke, trying to avoid eye contact.

Mason rolled his eyes and walked back to the guest room. You shrugged your shoulder, happy to be rid of him.

Then however, he appeared again. Your eyes zeroed in at what he was holding in his hands.

“Think fast.” He said, tossing the box at you.

Your hands sprang up and you were satisfied that you managed to catch it. It was a box, a large one at that. Full of several Terry’s Chocolate Oranges.

“Truce?” He offered.

You looked down at the chocolates, then to Mason, then back again.

“Fine.” You obliged.

You noticed the way he was looking at you. He stared at you like you were the only one. It was 2am, you were the only one in the room. You began to feel warm, nervous, and anxious under his gaze. Like he was scrutinising your every move.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You finally mustered up the courage to ask.

“Analysis.” He answered.

“Analysis? Are you good?” You shot him a strange look.

“I’m just trying to figure out why I acted the way I did at the service station.”

“Maybe because your were getting no playing time at Chelsea and you guys were losing every match.” You laughed, before quickly shutting yourself up.

“Sorry too soon.” You apologised.

To your surprised Mason cracked a smile. He then proceeded to walk over to you on the other side of the kitchen island, you swiveled your chair around to face him.

You sat while he stood. You looked up at him, still confused and nervous at what he was doing.

His arms flew to either side of you, basically caging you in.

You gulped nervously for several reasons. One, you obviously wanted him to act on it but you were kind of inexperienced and wouldn’t know what to do if he did. Two, you were in your parents house, they were sleeping just above your heads. Three, he was your brother’s best friend.

“What are you doing?” You questioned, placing emphasis on the what.

“Are you okay with this?” He asked, eyes fixated on you.

“Yes.” You answered immediately.

“The only reason I fought with you so hard was because I thought you were cute. I didnt really know how else to get a girl’s attention.” Mason admitted sheepishly.

“So you’re not usually a dick?” You inquired, a smile playing on your face.

“Usually no. To you, yes. I like our bantering.” He smirked.

“Me too.” You nodded, laughing.

You noticed he started to glance longingly at your lips.

But before you could think or act, you heard movement upstairs, someone shuffling in their room.

“My parents are upstairs.” You thought aloud.

Mason nodded about to speak before you both heard someone coming down the stairs. You acted on instinct, pecked him on the lips then scurried away to your room.

“Call me.” You mouthed, gesturing with your hands, inwardly celebrating when you saw him smile.

Somehow managing to get up to your room and in your bed without whoever was coming down the stairs noticing, a smile was on your face.

You quickly opened up your phone and began to text your two best friends.

Today starts a forbidden romance, just like in the movies. Upon reading your text you quickly deleted the message.

Oh shit. He didn’t have your number.

Maybe this wasn’t going to be just like the movies.

I was not feeling this one at all, was a bit chaotic. hope u enjoyed though <3

[forjongseong]

mareado // jay (ENHYPEN)

pairing: jay x fem!reader

genre: fluff and some suggestive scenes // warning: none! // wc: ~1.1k

summary: you wake up in your boyfriend's arms after a long night.

author’s note: the third fic inspired by a Camilo song! this one is what happens right after favorito.

yes, it is set on Jay's birthday and I did write it back in April. only chose to post it here now. since Jay and Jake have fully recovered from cov!d, I am also posting carmesí tonight!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That thing you and I did when we saw each other

All night long eating each other with kisses

How much do I want to repeat it?

A night like that no one has given me before

I smell like you from all sides

That's why I still walk like that, tipsy

The sun was shining through the blinds, hitting Jay’s face with streaks of light, and highlighting the pores on Y/N’s exposed shoulders. Jay blinked several times before inhaling the scent of Y/N’s hair, still fragrant from the shower the night before. His hand gently traveled up to stroke her arm, careful not to wake her up.

Normally, Y/N isn’t a light sleeper, but for some reason her boyfriend’s touch gave her shivers, and she was quickly awakened.

“Good morning, birthday boy,” said Y/N, her back still facing Jay.

Jay pulled Y/N closer and embraced her tightly. Y/N wrapped her hands around his arms and chuckled when Jay nuzzled her neck.

“Stop, that tickles,” said Y/N, voice almost too hoarse to speak.

“Good,” Jay replied with his own morning voice. “I heard that if you’re ticklish that means you have a high sex drive.”

Y/N nudged Jay’s chest with her elbow and Jay winced as he laughed.

“Are you going to let me sleep in or do you have something else in mind?” Y/N asked. This time she was stroking Jay’s arm.

“My schedule for today starts at 3pm,” Jay already had his eyes closed again.

The two of them stayed in each other’s embrace for a while before Y/N decided to turn around and face her boyfriend. Jay opened his eyes again.

“Being like this,” Y/N reached a hand out to caress Jay’s cheek. “Reminds me of our first kiss.”

Jay scoffed and chuckled as he closed his eyes again, almost as if he was too embarrassed to remember. “More like first-makeout-almost-turned-to-sex instead of first kiss.”

“Yeah, why did you stop me?” asked Y/N, genuinely curious.

Jay’s eyebrows furrowed. “Let’s see. I think I was a fool at that time.”

Y/N chuckled and lightly tapped his cheek. “Seriously, what were you thinking? I already gave you the green light.”

“To be completely honest,” Jay sighed. “I really just wanted one kiss from you.”

“Okay?”

“No wait,” Jay shook his head lightly. “I wanted more but after you gave me a kiss I was trembling. It’s like I drank three espressos. I was hella nervous.”

Y/N looked unsure. “No way you were. You seemed so composed.”

“On the outside!”

Y/N cackled at the enthusiastic confession from her boyfriend. She had no idea he felt that way.

“When I left your place, I couldn’t even remember how to get home.”

“Well, now you’re just exaggerating,” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Babe, you know damn well I don’t lie,” Jay looked right into Y/N’s eyes, and Y/N returned the gaze with an oh-you’re-right sort of face.

“When I got home, the guys just hovered around me and accused me of getting drunk,” Jay chuckled as he continued to explain. “Which, in a sense, might have been true.”

Y/N tried to suppress a really wide smile that she felt creeping up her lips. “You’re such a romantic.”

“I was just scared of screwing up, which is weird, because I’m never scared of anything,” Jay gazed outside the window.

“That’s a lie—”

“Except ghosts,” Jay continued before Y/N could finish her protest.

Y/N laughed before leaning in to peck Jay on the lips. She then came closer to bury her face in his neck and let him draw circles on her bare back.

“What about you?” Jay’s voice vibrated right in front of her. “What did you feel after that night?”

“Rejected,” Y/N replied, straightforward.

Jay gasped and pulled away to look at Y/N in the eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“Meh,” Y/N shrugged as she pulled Jay closer again and sniffed his collarbone. “We’re cuddling naked on my bed, so in the end I still won.”

“Fair enough,” Jay smirked and started running his fingers down Y/N’s hair. Y/N smiled into his touch.

“Do you like long hair or short hair better?” asked Y/N all of a sudden.

“On you?”

Y/N nodded. Jay took the time to contemplate.

“You look amazing with short hair,” Jay continued to stroke her hair. “But when it comes to tying up your hair so you can suck my--”

“Okay I get it.”

Y/N punched Jay’s chest playfully and he let out a heartily laugh. “I don’t have any preference, love. You can do whatever you want with your hair.”

“I’m gonna grow it out,” Y/N mumbled into Jay’s chest. The vibration almost sent Jay’s brain into overdrive.

“You are?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Yeah, so you can pull on it better,” she looked up and kissed his chin. “You would like that, right?”

Jay tried so hard to hide his smile but then he realized Y/N couldn’t see him anyway. “Sounds good to me.”

They remained in the same position for the next couple of minutes before Jay finally decided to check the time.

“I think I better start slowly getting ready,” Jay sighed and kissed the top of Y/N’s head. “Do you want to shower first?”

Y/N shook her head. “You can go.”

“Do you want to shower with me?” Jay asked, a smirk creeping up his face.

This time, Y/N was the one who sighed. “After the rampage last night? No thank you. I need to be able to walk today.”

“Alright, babe,” Jay squeezed a hug around Y/N before getting out of the bed and stretching. Y/N just stared at Jay’s back until he eventually noticed.

“You sure you don’t want to join me?” he asked.

“As tempting as that sounds, I also don’t want to make you late,” Y/N said with a pout.

Jay’s heart melted as he saw his girlfriend in bed, body half-covered, hair messy, and her face just glowing under the sunlight.

“Make me late,” said Jay as he climbed back in bed and hovered above Y/N. “I want you to. I don’t mind. I don’t care if I get scolded.”

Y/N carefully considered the offer as she bit her lower lip. Jay got impatient so he held Y/N by the chin and forcefully smashed his lips into hers. She laughed as she reciprocated the kiss.

“Since you asked so nicely, and since it’s your birthday,” Y/N said when Jay finally pulled away to catch his breath. “Can you get my silk scrunchie, please?”

Jay glanced at the side table and quickly retrieved the item Y/N asked for. “Are you going to make breakfast?”

“I’m going to have breakfast,” Y/N smiled as she caressed Jay’s face. “Now lie down.”

-END-

© forjongseong 2022, all rights reserved

if you liked this, please reblog or reply to the post, or stop by my ask box! my asks are always open.

thank you for reading ❤️‍🔥

[divineluckfuckoff]

Self-inflicted attempt

More au shit WOOOOOOOOO. This time Ace finds a way to stop Xander's death! How?? Well you're gonna find out!

Also uh- TW: for throwing up and blood-

________________________________________________________________________________

Today, in theory, Xander would die. He knew that, and he had to find a way to stop that from happening.

So, he stayed up until midnight to make a plan with his future self. Not really healthy, but when you know a murder will happen and you want tk stop it, you have to make sure the plan is not disturbed.

First, he snuck out at night, as quiet as he could, and slipped in the infirmary so he could get the thing he neeeded. He quietly opened the door, not expecting to see Nico in there. He was frowning, looking at the pill bottles in the right side of the cabinet.

'Shit! You didn't tell me this would happen!'

'It's bound to happen, we had no clue Nico was here. But don't worry, he's not planning a murder. The pills he's looking for are for himself.' His future self assured him. Awkwardly, he coughed, gaining Nico's attention. He flinched, looking at Ace with wide eyes.

"Ah?! A-Ace, w-what are you d-doing here?!" he asked, trembling. It was almost as if he was afraid of the jockey. Ah, he probably was, considering how rude he normally is.

"I was... getting something. To help me get sleep. Can't sleep at all after the damn TV head announced the whole motives thing." he lied, it almost sounded perfect, if it wasn't for the fact that his voice was trembling and he was nervous. But, hopefully, Nico would buy the act.

"Ah, same here... Well, not really? It's... mostly because I'm out of my meds for my... anxiety..." the pet therapist shyly admitted. Ace perked up at that. Wow, he did buy the act. How lucky of him.

"Tranquilizers? I think they're all the way to the right, hold on." he recalled, walking over to the cabinet and reaching for the pills. He handed them to the shorter boy.

"Ah, thank you Ace! I... couldn't really distinguish them due to how dark it is..." Nico softly spoke, a small smile on his face.

"No need to. But you could've gone here at the morning, y'know? Waking up earlier than normal and such." Ace told him.

"I would, if I wasn't such a deep sleeper, heh." Nico sighed, rubbing the back of his head nervously before waving at him, exiting the infirmary. Ace sighed in relief, feeling his chest deflate at this.

'Told you.'

'Just-... Shut up and give the name of the poison, for fuck's sake.'

'It's the one all the way to the left, bottom row. The red bottle with the yellow label.' He grabbed it, inspecting it closely. The liquid inside was a dark, greenish yellow, and he could already feel himself gag at the thought of having to forcefully digest it in order to prevent Xander from dying, but here we are. It was for the sake of everyone being alive, after all.

"Got what I needed, now to get to my room." he mumbled, slipping the small, plastic bottle in his breast pocket before he exited the infirmary, wandering back in the darkness that is the hall to the dorms.

________________________________________________________________________________

He skipped the morning announcement, waking up a few minutes earlier than it. It gave him time to practice his lines all over again while getting dressed and styling his hair. Instead of the usual all up look, his future self decided to switch it up a little.

His hair was swiped to the right, a small strand sticking out and falling down on his forehead while he rolled up his sleeves like always and bent down the collar of his jacket while not fully closing it eith the zipper.

"Damn... I look like... a different me!" Ace couldn't help but gasp in awe at the sight.

'Heh, your welcome little me. It was time to get rid of that Walmart Kirishima Eijirou looking hairstyle anyways, so I thought: Why not earlier?' His future self boasted with pride, sparkles all around him.

"Ouch. That hurts." Ace huffed, slipping the bottle in his pocket again before heading over to the kitchen. He could already smell the food from out of the kitchen, which was a good sign. The plan would be in action soon. He peeked his head in the kitchen.

Levi and Hu Jing were there, discussing some random topic, probably related to the killing game. The two were wearing aprons while cooking. It seemed like Levi noticed him, as his tilted to the side.

"Ace? What are you doing here?" he asked. Hu turned her head to the side, surprised.

"A-Ah, eh, I was just walking around, haha! J-Just happened to smell something delicious, and I wanted to take a peeek..." he trailed off, mentally cursing hi,self for stammering like that even after practicing a lot.

"Ah, thank you! Me and Levi were making a plate my family taught me. Would you like to help?" Hu asked with a warm smile. Ace paused for a second. Was it a good idea? While he could have a better opportunity, it was risky. Very risky.

"Oh, uh, I can't really cook... I-I wouldn't mind helping with bringing stuff though!" He nervously said. Levi raised a brow at that, while Hu nodded.

"Right. Can you get us the recipe book while we take out the food from the oven?" the zither player asked. Nodding, Ace hurried over to get the book, a thick, red book full of traditional chinese dishes to the brim. It amazed him how many there were.

"Here!"

"Thanks."

________________________________________________________________________________

It was fun cooking with Hu Jing and Levi. He got to learn a lot of recipes and learn a few basic rules of cooking. He felt like he could be more calmer around those two, they had such a calm, parent-like aura he found himself comfortable in.

However, in his mind, he still had to start the plan. He was simply just looking fkr the right opportunity. And, he just so happened to find it.

Hu Jing had excused herself to go to the bathroom while Levi was busy entertaining himself with reading the recipes from the book, his lipshad formed a small smile while doing so. With the opportunity in hand, he decided to put the plan in motion.

He walked over to what would be his portion, quietly opening the bottle.

Drop

One

Drop

Two

Drop

Three

Drop

Four.

Four yellowish green drops fell on his food, one by one. While he debated whether or not he should put more, his future self told him four was enough. And, with that, he closed the lid of the bottle and put it back in his pocket. This had gone very smoothly.

'...Now what?'

'...Can I... take over..?'

Surprised by the request, Ace glanced at Levi before he understood what his future self really wanted.

'Of course. Now go and talk to him, I bet you missed him.'

And with that, he adopted a more mature glance as he walked over to the brown haired boy. "You seem really interested in the book." he softly spoke, leaning his back and hip against the wooden counter. Levi perked up at his words, glancing at him for a second. He seemed taken aback by the sudden maturity the jockey had.

"Ah, well... I like keeping my hands occupied with, quite frankly, anything. Sewing, cooking, reading... I like always having something to do." the personal stylist admitted. Ace hummed.

"I guess it makes sense."

"What about you? What do you like to do?" Levi asked. Ace paused for a second, rubbing his chin.

"Well, I've always liked climbing." he admitted "As a child, I would always climb trees and act a bit irrational."

"Really? Considering how fearsome you are, I wouldn't have expected it..." Levi mused.

"There's more to a person than what meets the eye, Levi. I think we both know that." Ace shrugged.

"Huh? What do you mean?" Levi asked, confused. Ace eyed him for a second.

"I think both you and I know what we're talking about." he whispered, Levi's eyes widening. 'No, it can't be. Nobody here knows, why would Ace say that? He's just messing with me.' He thought, internally panicking. His mind was already being flooded with questions, he just couldn't utter a single word, he felt a lump stuck in his throat. He felt... anxious. Anxious that he'd judge him. However, before Levi could actually ask him anything once he felt likehe could talk again, Hu came back.

"Sorry about that! Arei was already causing trouble." she apologized.

"It's fine or whatever." Ace shrugged, back to his usual self again. Levi stayed quiet for a second, confused.

"Levi? Is everything okay?" Hu Jing asked, worried.

"Ah, uh yeah. I just...dozed off a bit, my apologies." he quickly answered, glancing at Ace, who was getting everything ready to serve the food.

"Right, if you say so. But if something's bothering you, feel free to tell me, okay?" she smiled before walking over to Ace, helping him with the plates. Levi frowned.

He suddenly had that really bad feeling again.

________________________________________________________________________________

Once everyone gathered and started eating, Ace held back the urge to gag as soon as he tasted the poison going in his stomach. He forced himself to swallow the food, acting normal to not throw everyone off almost immediately.

One

Two

Three

By that point, he could already feel something crawling up his stomach, but he forced himself to not throw up as he kept eating.

Four

Five

Six

Seven

He quickly reached for his glass of water, using it to force the vomit down once again. By that point, he guessed someone would notice his face, which now showed signs of a very forced expression. "Ace? Are you okay?" Levi whispered, confused. The jockey nodded, taking another bite of the food with a forced smile.

Eight

Nine

Ten

At the tenth bite, he couldn't anymore. He quickly got up, running to the bathroom. "Ah- Ace?!" Veronika called, confused. Everyone paused, glancing at the door to the .

"Well that was... weird." Whit commented.

"Should we go after him?" Eden asked, worried.

"Yeah, I'll go." Levi volunteered.

"I'll go too." Teruko nodded. Getting up, the two walked out of the dining hall, following the direction Ace went.

"I wonder what happened to him in order to ran out of the dining hall." Teruko mused.

"I do want to know too. Perhaps that will calm the bad feeling I have." Levi agreed. The lucky student stopped, looking at the taller in confusion.

"Bad feeling?"

"Mhm. Ever since I woke up, I've had this weird feeling that something was going to go wrong today. I just hope it's false." Levi explained.

"Huh... Well, I'm sure it-"

*THUD*

Teruko's words were interrupted by a thud, a close thud. The two stopped walking, confused. It sounded like someone fell. Did someone get hurt? But everyone was in the dining hall?

Levi quickly placed the pieces together before he started running to where the thud happened. "Ah- Levi! Wait up!" Teruko called as she chased after the blue eyed boy, worried. She, too, had pieced the puzzle and figured out it could only be Ace, but she had no clue of what happened as well. It didn't take them long to find Ace.

An Ace that was knelt down, holding his stomach in pain while he kept coughing violently. The two gasped at the sight, loud enough for Ace to hear them.

"Urk- G-Guys?-" he stammered out before another round of coughing came out of his mouth, he was covering it too.

"Ace! Ace what's wrong?!" she questioned as she knelt down next to him, panicked. What was going on??

"I-I don’t- URK- know-" the jockey choked out those word before he hurled, turning away from the girl before he finally gave in, letting it out.

A pool of nasty green mixed with an odd shade of pink came out of his mouth violently, splattering Teruko's shirt. The girl paled at this while Levi knelt down too, rubbing Ace's back. He hadn't noticed the shade of pink in the vomit yet.

"A-Ace... W-Why did you- t-throw up blood?" Teruko asked. Levi's eyes widened as he felt the world stop at that moment.

"...B-Blood?" He choked out, trying to process the situation. Before he knew it, Ace had collapsed onto the boy's arms, out cold.

"Levi! We have to bring him to the infirmary!" Teruko shouted before she got up. Finally snapping out of his trance, the boy nodded, carefully picking up the jockey. The two then ran to the infirmary.

________________________________________________________________________________

"P-Poisoned?!" David questioned, worried.

"Mhm. That's what happened." Arturo confirmed, Charles nodding in agreement.

"What... Who-Who would poison him?" Hu stammered, worried.

"Anyone could. I have no clue why. Perhaps wanting to escape." Charles mused "Either way, the poisoned they used simply causes vomiting. This person was not very smart."

'Wow gee, thanks.'

'I forgot how much of an ass Arturo was.'

Ace sat in his mindscape, watching the scene with his future self. He felt bad he had to worry the rest. However, if it means that no murders will happen, then so be it.

'He softened around me?'

'Thanks to Nika, of course. The horror trio, as she called it, grew very close.' FuturAce stated 'Good times, really.'

'Heh, I guess so...'

"Someone should guard incase the killer tries to finish what they started." Min suggested.

"I will." Levi offered, serious "I refuse to let someone die today."

"Alright! Anyone else?" Eden asked. A second happened before Xander raised his hand.

"I will, I'm worried about him too. Besides, it's a good idea that the strongest stay and watchover him." He reasoned. The others nodded.

"Alright. If he wakes up, tell us." Hu Jing asked before everyone else left the room. Levi sighed, sitting on the bed.

"I feel like I just had a heart attack..." he let out, breathing heavily. Xander layed his back against the wall.

"Levi... You and Hu Jing were the ones cooking, right?" the rebel asked. The blue eyed boy widened his eyes, catching up to what Xander was implying.

"Neither of us poisoned Ace, Xander. We both woke up around the same time, met up at the entrance to the dining hall and never went to the infirmary at all." He argued, glaring at him.

"I know, and I want to believe you! But... I'm sorry, I just want to rule out all the possibilities." Xander defended himself, hands up as a way to say he wasn't going to fight him. Levi huffed. He was getting jumpy and agitated, he might slip up again.

"Sorry... it's just-"

"You like Ace, don't you?" Xander asked. Levi felt his face heat up at those words.

"Ah?! X-Xander what are you-"

"I kinda caught onto you, heh. Don't worry, I will keep it a secret." Xander smiled "Just promise me to confess once we get out of here." he said.

"Ah... I don't know if he likes me back, so... I'd rather keep them a secret." he sighed, holding Ace's hand. Xander frowned. He knkws he shouldn't intervene, but this is a killing game show. Either of them could die soon. He thought it might be better to just say it now, but... it could be more painful if the feelings are out.

'Xander... now you are safe...' FuturAce mumbled to himself, feeling proud of himself and his past self for being able to achieve this. No attacking Teruko, no Min saving Teruko, no Min killing Xander. Nothing. The three were all safe.

[curewhimsy]

Heartburn

Taya/Ritsu one-shot.

Rated G (all ages.)

AO3 link

Ritsu knew that Taya was his best friend because they were close enough to fight in the Denny’s parking lot over dumb stuff at moonlight, end up making up with a deep conversation under the stars, and go right back to being buddies by daylight. Almost like the Sailor Moon theme song but with a platonic twist.

But will a sudden text from Taya about “complicated chest feelings” change these feelings to platonic to something more… intense?

Ritsu Namine had known Taya Soune for a a bit more than a year. He always had admired Taya’s thoughtfulness, sensitivity, and gentle soul which contrasted with Ritsu’s more… chaotic and impulsive ways.

Ritsu knew that Taya was his best friend because they were close enough to fight in the Denny’s parking lot over dumb stuff at moonlight, end up making up with a deep conversation under the stars, and go right back to being buddies by daylight. Almost like the Sailor Moon theme song but with a platonic twist.

They always could just know each other’s favorite things, be it sandwiches, chord progressions, or sleeping positions. Taya was a side-sleeper, but only his right side, because the left side of his bed was “the wrong side of the bed.” They even remembered each other’s phone numbers, despite contacts being autofilled these days. Ritsu was nicknamed “The Chaos Lord” in Taya’s phone. Taya’s nickname was “Dramatic Little Gentlemanlet” in Ritsu’s phone. And they always knew exactly what the other wanted at Denny’s.

When Taya was moody, it was a blueberry pancake day. When he felt posh, he ordered Moons Over My-Hammy. When he was in one of those Moods, it was more of a hush puppy day. Ritsu usually ordered the Grand Slam, unless it was past 2:00 PM and he went with the Slamwich. When it was one of Those days, however, it was time for the Slamburger.

Lately however, Ritsu and Taya had been trying different restaurants. There was a fancy eatery that Taya instantly fell in love with. The food was fancy, decadent… but the portions were so small, they reminded Ritsu of the time they were fighting and Taya told him to “buzz off and eat cat food.” (So Ritsu did, much to Taya’s shock.)

Ritsu had been trying to get bigger portions for them by tricking the chefs into making it.

“You know… this truffle ravioli would taste much more esquisite with extra cream. But then you’d also need to add a bit more garlic to balance it out! And like, just a bit more truffles, and roughly… 10 more ravioli pieces.”

The chefs would accidentally cook too much each time, and Ritsu and Taya would still pay the same amount. More for less!

But eventually, the chefs would catch on to their little trick, leaving Ritsu and Taya to have to flee to a new fancy restaurant every 2-3 nights. But the mismatched pair would always have a blast going around to the different restaurants, duping the chefs, and getting to stuff their faces.

“This seems so bad… Like we shouldn’t be doing this.” Taya said one time. “But… it feels so worthwhile!”

Ritsu laughed and almost choked on his escargot. Ritsu always felt that Taya had brought out certain things in him, and he brought out certain things in Taya.

Taya was normally proper, stuffy, and even uptight about manners. But being with Ritsu made him throw all that out the window. Sure they would clash and fight at times, but underneath it all, they were more important to each other than anything.

And Ritsu didn’t want to have this any other way.

But one day…

Ritsu got a fateful text from Dramatic Little Gentlemanlet. It was 10 PM and he had gotten out of the shower with a clear head and dripping locks. He dried his long, scarlet hair while humming his favorite song, ERROR, when he noticed his phone buzzing.

And when he went to read the text, it was as if time had stood still.

“Can we talk? I’m having a lot of somewhat painful feelings lately… like my chest is quivering with unease. I return home with these overwhelming feelings every time we part ways for the night. Idk how to articulate them… If you’d like, please come to the park to discuss this with me.”

Taya… he normally was this formal texting. It was why Ritsu always told him to loosen up, and partly why he was “Dramatic Little Gentlemanlet” in his phone to begin with.

But this… What was this? He certainly wasn’t being subtle, Ritsu thought.

Ritsu had been secretly waiting for this day for a while. He was just terrified of making the first move, and destroying their friendship…

But Taya was confessing such things to him. Ritsu normally imagined himself turning into a giddy schoolgirl at a confession of Taya’s—flustered and euphoric and unable to breathe…

But it was happening for real now, and Ritsu just felt unease. Hesitance even.

“But Taya wants you to come.” Ritsu thought. So that was enough persuasion to get Ritsu to put on his best dress, wear that makeup he only wore for special occasions, and waltz out the door dizzily, uneasily, to the park…

—-

Ritsu found Taya siting at the edge of the park fountain. Their favorite fountain. The one they sat under at night and had serious and dumb talks at 2 AM. They just hit different. They were memories Ritsu would always treasure…

“Here goes…” Ritsu thought.

“Greetings.” Ritsu couldn’t help but notice, Taya looked absolutely dashing. He certainly was wearing his best and most dapper outfit as well. “But when was Taya not looking his best, though?” Ritsu thought. “For all I know, these could be his sleeping clothes!” Taya was always so eccentrically dapper, even sleeping in formalwear. But it was a huge part of why Ritsu just… loved him to pieces.

“Ritsu! You look… really splendid tonight.” Taya said. “Your dress goes really well with the night sky in your eyes.”

Gee… Taya really knew how to make a maiden (but in a masculine way) swoon.

“Oh, um…” Ritsu began to stammer. “Are you ready…? To talk about your… feelings?”

“Ah yes… my chest.” Taya said. “It’s… as if I have no room to breathe at times. It’s this uneasy… feeling.”

“Well, when does this sensation happen?” Ritsu looked up, fiddled with his fingers and asked.

“When I’m with you mostly.” Taya said. “Or shortly after we part. It’s always been since we’ve been eating at those restaurants…”

“Oh.” Ritsu said. “Is it… perhaps coupled with an intense feeling of longing? Or…”

“Indeed…” Taya said. “It’s a longing, for these feelings to be alleviated. They’re quite… uncomfortable.”

Hm…

“Taya, I don’t know how to explain this… but…” Ritsu turned red, almost as scarlet as his hair. “I… I feel like this when I’m around you too.”

“Really?” Taya asked. “I’m sorry.”

Taya was apologizing?

“It must feel uncomfortable…” He said. “No matter how much water I drink, it won’t go away…”

Huh? Ritsu was finally starting to wonder if Taya was actually talking about…

“Hey, Taya.” Ritsu said. “Um… does this happen after you… perhaps, eat a lot?”

“Oh! Yeah!” Taya said. “It’s almost as if the food I ate is punishing me. Why do you ask.”

Ritsu buried his face in his hands and groaned into his palm.

He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe that he had thought Taya had… feelings for him, when it really was…

“Taya.” Ritsu said bluntly. “I think… you might be having indigestion.”

Ritsu didn’t want to believe his own voice saying those words.

“Oh, oh yeah!” Taya’s face lit up. “It all makes sense now. Thanks so much.” He said.

“No problem.” Ritsu said, sounding hollow.

“Yeah.” Taya said. “So I guess I should get some Tums, huh?”

Ritsu nodded. A part of him began to wish that Tums wouldn’t fix Taya’s unease.

Because then it might be caused by a longing heart after all. Ritsu caught himself thinking this and his his face. Why… why am I being like this? He thought. This is so awkward! Aaugh!

“Well gee…” Ritsu eventually found humor in the situation and spoke up. “I think you’re the only person who can make indigestion sound so sweet and dramatic and… romantic.” He laughed.

“…Oh.” Taya’s face went blank.

“…”

“…What kind of feelings did you think I was trying to describe?” Taya said.

The words punched Ritsu in the gut and he got all red and sweaty.

But before Ritsu could open his mouth…

“Huh, weird. I haven’t ate anything and I’m… feeling it again… Or something very similar.” Taya said again.

”Ah…” Ritsu began adapting to the hue of a tomato. Or his favorite kimchi dish. He looked down to hide his flustered face under his long bangs.

“M-Me too.” Ritsu stammered. “Actually… these feelings… they happen to me… when… when I’m around you.”

Ritsu felt as if he confessed everything… would Taya understand?

But Taya grew a surprisingly cheeky smile and poked Ritsu’s nose. Ritsu was taken aback… and whimpered a little, so quietly Taya couldn’t hear.

“Nah, it’s definitely something about YOU.” Taya laughed. He smiled. Oh, that smile… his smile was what Ritsu treasured.

Seeing Taya’s smile relieved Ritsu so much… his heart began to fly. He began to laugh.

“Huh? What’s so funny?” Taya asked.

“Nothing…” Ritsu wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. “It’s just… Since we’re out here, wanna go somewhere?”

“Hey, sure.” Taya smiled. He stood up and took Ritsu’s arm, lifting him up the stone fountain edge as well.

“But no fancy restraurant tonight. I don’t want to get heartburn.”

“Heh, yeah…” Ritsu said. “How about we go to Denny’s, you monocle head?”

“I’d like that. You cabbage-for-brains.” Taya smiled.

So the two strolled off to their favorite Denny’s, filled with their memories and friendship. Ritsu had always dreamed of Taya one day reciprocating his feelings, but… perhaps they could be just platonic friends a little longer for now.

—-

Taya’s actions/intentions and such are up to interpretation. Was it really indigestion? Or…

[thenovelartist]

And there was only One Bed - Tears of Themis Headcanons

Premise: There’s only one room left in the hotel, meaning the guys have to be roomies with MC for a night.

Luke

Err… his cheeks are red now.

He’s having to check with MC if she’s okay with it. Not that they had much of a choice.

They take the room, only to discover one bed.

And forget his crush on her; that’s the least of his problems.

He knows she shifts in her sleep.

“You take half and I take half?” MC offers. “Like when we were kids?”

He sighs, lamenting his fate. “I’m so gonna end up on the floor.”

“Sorry.”

When it comes to who showers first: rock, paper, scissors.

He’s the least phased of all the guys by the whole “share one bathroom” situation. They grew up together. They sometimes used to have quick conversations through the bathroom door, normally just a question or two about what they wanted for dinner or if their phone went off and it was their parents.

Which happened this time. “There was a vending machine down stairs. You want anything? And if you mention that diet, I’m getting you two of your favorite candy bars.”

“Just one and only one.”

“You got it.”

(@gavin-plz-call-me once called them the “King and Queen of No Boundaries” and I will never forget it.)

Eventually, Luke makes sure MC’s settled in for bed while he’s planning to stay up a little and figure out tomorrow’s game plan.

Until she literally drags him to bed.

He can’t protest against her.

Contrary to what he thought, he did not end up on the floor.

But it was kinda hard to sleep when the girl of his dreams decided his chest was her new snuggle pillow halfway through the night.

He’ll cave and roll with it. Be selfish just for tonight and hold her there.

Come morning, she apologizes for disrupting him, he dismisses it. And both their cheeks are red.

But it doesn’t phase them. Give it half an hour, they’re back to normal.

(Bonus: “So, kid. Let me get this straight,” Aaron Yishmir started. “You spent the night with her, and you’re still not gonna tell her anything?”

“It wasn’t like that!”

“You’re hopeless.)

Vyn

Well… this is a predicament.

However, they come to some awkward agreement that if it’s the only place to sleep for the night, they’ll take it and figure it out as they go.

However, things only go from bad to worse when they learn there’s only one bed.

There were very few times since becoming an adult that Vyn ever found himself at a loss. And this was one of those times.

“Um… are you comfortable splitting?”

His glasses almost fell off his face at MCs suggestion.

Before he can even think about suggesting to take the chair, MC is putting up a blanket wall. “Like this?”

Er… aha…

Oh geez, this woman…

He caves to that deep, ugly part of him that’s begging “yes” and agrees.

Then comes the new revelation there’s only one bathroom, which rose the question of who was going to shower when.

He just lets her take the first shower while his mind is still storming.

During that time, he realizes this may be the only time he has the privacy to actually record his voice diary.

It’s a total disaster. He’s in mental turmoil and can barely think straight.

But MC is acting normal, meaning he’s got to try to act normal.

Normally, he takes his showers in the morning, but he takes it at night this time just so he can have another moment of privacy to get his thoughts in order.

This is just a practical arrangement. This is just a practical arrangement. This is just a practical arrangement…

Bedtime rolls around, and poor, unsuspecting Vyn believes they are each going to stay on their respective sides of the bed.

However, Author has a headcanon these two both sleep like dead logs.

Morning rolls around, and they’re still both asleep, only they’re totally entangled.

MC wakes up first, laying on top of Vyn.

And when she freaks, flailing and falling off the bed in the process, that’s when Vyn wakes, too.

It was… an interesting morning to say the least.

They come to the agreement to never speak on it again.

(Until a few years down the line after they’re together and can look back on that day with amusement.)

Artem

When the person at the front desk said there was only one room left, Artem about had a heart attack.

He cannot possibly share a room with MC. That’s super improper.

Will call around to any other hotel in the area, but no avail.

MC will literally have to drag this poor man up to the room.

“It will be fine, Artem.”

Except, it wasn’t. There was one bed.

Cue almost heart attack number 2.

He almost left to go sleep in the car. MC had to restrain him.

“We can share right? Like, if we—”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Not even if we put a blanket—”

“No. I’ll sleep in the chair.”

There was no convincing him to sleep anywhere else.

And MC tried.

Eventually, she had to surrender. “Fine. Then do you want the first shower?”

Oh… there was only one bathroom… that they’d be sharing…

Cue almost heart attack number 3.

Will legitimately leave the room while she’s showering. He just feels too awkward and like he’s invading her privacy.

Then bed time rolls around and he’s unable to sleep, so he works on his laptop for the time being.

Ends up pulling an all-nighter, which MC anticipated.

She set an alarm for early in the morning so she could then force him to bed for a few hours.

While he insisted he was fine, he was too tired to protest as she pushed him down into bed. “Sleep, will you. I know you didn’t sleep all night.”

Thought he’d have trouble, but he was so wound up all night over everything that had happened that he’s passed out in fifteen minutes.

And stayed out cold for a few hours.

When they left, MC made sure to thank him for being such a gentleman. She thought it was the least she could do for his troubles.

That, and she quite liked the way his ears and neck turned red.

(Bonus: He hopes Celestine never finds out what happened on that business trip.

But when she finds out curtesy of MC, she will never let him live it down.)

Marius

The moment he finds out there’s only one room, he actually gets super flustered.

And as he does, instantly goes in to deflective Playboy Flirt mode.

“Get your head out of the gutter, you little—”

MC shut that down, real quick.

Most he could do then is just say “It can’t be that bad, right? What’s the worst that could happen?”

Well, apparently only be one bed.

Flustered Marius = Playboy Persona

“That’s it,” MC says. “You take the bed.”

“What? Don’t you wanna share?”

“No.”

“Ouch!”

But really, he wants to find some way to get her to take the bed because he really will feel awful otherwise.

Then comes the single bathroom realization.

“You wanna shower together?”

“Marius, I swear I will kick you out of this room and take the keycard from you.”

“Oh, my feisty Miss Attorney.”

“Miss Attorney will sue you for sexual harassment.”

“Understood.”

He gets to shower first, and then ends up giving her some excuse for leaving the room entirely.

He loves teasing her, but this might be the most he’s ever pushed his luck. And he actually doesn’t want her to hate him, so he’ll give her this space at least.

As for the bed situation…

MC tries to sleep on the couch, but he can’t stand it, so he decides to push his luck and simply carry her to bed.

“I won’t pull anything, I swear.”

“The only reason I’m agreeing is because I know I’ll sleep better here than the couch.”

“See?”

“Marius.”

“I’ll shut up.”

Regrets his decision halfway through the night when Mr. Light Sleeper realizes Ms. Dead Log moves in her sleep.

She was snuggled up against his back, and his heart was going doki doki too hard to even think about going back to sleep.

Eventually, he rolls over and snuggles her, not just because he wants to, but he hopes it will keep her still through the night.

Unfortunately, she was not happy in the morning.

“Can’t we talk about this?”

She kept her face turned away from him the rest of the day, but he knew it was red with blush. “Shut up.”

[eepy-pleepy]

It’s Not Everest (No Vacancy)

The neon “NO” is hidden behind an overgrown shrub, so Dean pulls the Impala into the motel parking lot before they can see that it is, in fact, lit.

“Awesome.” Dean says in a tone that clearly doesn’t think so, and whips the car around to pull back onto the dark road. They immediately hit a pothole and Sam’s head bumps the ceiling.

“Ow, wait, Dean, we didn't go check with the office, maybe they just left the sign lit because they can’t freaking see it–”

“No, Sam, every goddamn motel in this godless town is full up and I don’t particularly feel like walking into another musty fucking office just to have them tell me I need to learn how to read. It’s too damn late, I’m too damn tired, I’m just gonna find a pull-off where the cops won’t feel the need to be our 5AM wake-up call and we’re sleeping in Baby. Fuck it.” He emphasizes the last sentence by throwing the car into park, all seventeen feet of shiny black metal successfully hidden behind a bank of tall, scraggly shrubs off the shoulder of the road. Dean kills the engine and the early summer evening rises to fill the silence with the musical stylings of several hundred crickets.

“Dean.”

“We’ve done it before, Sam.”

“I know we have. What about Cas?”

Dean looks over at the passenger’s side. Sitting shotgun, Cas looks back at him, his eyes just a dark glint in the moonlight.

“I can just... keep watch outside.” He says.

“Bad fucking idea.” Dean snaps. “I wake up in the middle of the night and see you out there lurking, I might shoot you between the eyes. You’re staying in the damn car.”

“Dean, there’s not enough roo–”

“Look, Sammy, passing out is passing out, sitting or lying down. This is a molehill, not Everest. I just need my four hours, damn.”

Dean crams up against the driver’s side door, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning his bent knees against the back of the seat between himself and Cas. He’ll worry about bootprints on the leather upholstery when he isn’t so fucking exhausted.

“Jerk.” Sam mutters from the backseat, almost inaudible.

“Goodnight, bitch.”

“Goodnight, Dean. Sam.” Cas murmurs.

“Don’t make it weird, Cas.”

"Goodnight, Cas."

"Thank you, Sam."

Dean gives a little huff through his nose. Cas folds his hands in his lap and turns his head forward to watch the fireflies.

Dean doesn’t like it when Cas watches him sleep. Cas knows this.

But if he doesn't want eyes on him, he shouldn’t be drawing so much attention to himself. This is the fourth time inside of an hour that he’s shifted around, clearly uncomfortable with his sleeping arrangement, six feet of full-grown man trying to figure out how to make three feet work for him.

It's clearly not working out.

Dean's head has fallen against Castiel’s arm. He’s snoring gently, Cas can feel his breath warm through the sleeve of his trench coat.

He shuts his eyes. Pulls his focus down to just this, the upper lefthand side of his body. Feels the weight of Dean's head, the unyielding shape of his skull, the softness of his cheek. Cas turns his head towards him, just to better assess the situation. Not at all to feel the soft tickle of Dean’s hair against his nose and lips. That’s just an... accidental consequence.

Cas feels too big for his own skin. It’s something a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent should be entirely familiar with, but this isn't the feeling of cramming a Chrysler building into a 5-foot-11-inch frame.

This is bigger than that.

The slump of Dean’s body across the seat means that his head is the only thing supported, and it has his neck at a bad angle. If Dean's an angry sleeper, he's even worse with a crick in his neck and Cas doesn't love the idea of being stuck in a car with that tomorrow. He can't pull Dean more flush against his side without the risk of waking him and sending him into a conniption of bruised heterosexuality, so instead, he carefully lifts his arm. It works perfectly: Dean slides forward, falling to lying down with his head in Cas' lap.

The effect is immediate. The uncomfortable pinch between Dean's brows smooths away and he takes a deep, slow breath, settling against his new pillow and sinking into an easier sleep.

Cas hasn't realized he's smiling, yet. It's a tiny, soft thing, the one he gets when he's looking at something precious.

He is.

The moonlight catches the sweep of Dean's eyelashes, the top of his cheek, the shell of his ear, gilding them silver. His lips are parted, plush and dark in the contrast of the pale light. He's slightly curled up on the bench seat and Cas knows it's to fit the small space but that doesn't mean it's not the most fucking endearing thing he's ever seen.

The short hair over Dean's ear is mussed from the way he was slumped like a grumpy turtle past the collars of his shirt and jacket. Delicate, Cas brushes it right again.

Dean shifts, pressing up into his ghost of a touch. Cas draws back, afraid he's been caught doing something definitely not on Dean's approved list of Things Just Friends Do, but Dean doesn't wake. Cas' hand hovers.

He shouldn't. He should return to looking out of the front windshield and prepare the diffusion for when Dean wakes up to find himself sleeping in Cas' lap. That's what he should do.

The trouble is, nothing short of a fucking catastrophe could pull his eyes away from this. Dean is so beautiful, so calm and easy in his slumber, and he's right here, safe and close and warm. Literally right in his lap.

Cas pets Dean's hair, feeling that dangerous constriction again, something so huge and profound it might very well burst him. Dean sleeps on.

"You should tell him."

Sam's voice from the backseat is so quiet it's barely a whisper, but it startles Cas like a gunshot. He turns his head a margin to find Sam watching him, head and shoulders against the back driver's side door, arms crossed over his chest.

"Did you say something?" Cas tries, matching Sam's barely-there whisper.

"You heard me."

"Tell him what?"

"You love him."

Cas turns his head further so he's not just looking at Sam out of his periphery. There's nothing accusatory in Sam's tone, quiet as it is, or in his posture, cramped as it may be. He looks back at Cas with nothing but the same easy camaraderie he's always shown him, like they're discussing a good book or the lovely weather, not a complete paradigm shift.

In his lap, Dean tucks one hand under Cas' thigh and nuzzles his face deeper against the fabric of his pants. Cas looks down at him again and feels ready to explode into several new galaxies.

"I can't." He breathes.

"Why not?"

"You know your brother, Sam.” Cas says, unable to stop himself from stroking light fingers through Dean’s hair again. “And I’m happy. I refuse to risk losing him in pursuit of something I don’t need from him.”

“You’re right, I do know my brother. Probably better than he’d like to believe.” Sam says. “And I think he might surprise you, given the chance.”

Cas looks back at Sam like he wants to argue, but then just closes his mouth, his jaw bunching. Sam gives a little shrug and sits forward, reaching behind himself for the door handle.

“Just some, uh… food for thought.” He says. “I’m gonna hit the head. I’ll take my time. No particular reason.”

“Sam.”

But Sam’s already unfolding out into the night air, the car rocking as his weight shifts. The crickets are suddenly much louder, invading their little bubble of quiet. In Cas’ lap, Dean twitches.

Sam shuts the car door and Dean sits bolt upright. His gun, dropped in the footwell before he fell asleep, is in his grasp in a blink.

“Sam's just gone to relieve his bladder.” Cas says next to him. Dean squints at him and sniffs, wiping at his groggy eyes, then flicks the safety back on. The gun hits the footwell again with a dull thunk.

"God. Like a damn cashew. You'd think with all that height there'd be more... storage."

Cas is carefully looking forward, and not at the red mark on Dean’s cheek that’s the same shape as the warm spot rapidly cooling on his thigh. Dean rubs at that side of his face.

“Was I…?” He clears his throat. “Uh.”

“Asleep? Yes. I thought that was the idea.”

“Lying on you.”

“You needed to stretch out.”

Dean gives a frustrated sigh. “No, Cas, man, that’s your personal space. You should have shoved me off.”

“It was easier on your neck.” Cas says, still looking straight ahead. “You weren’t bothering me.”

“That’s not the point. You gotta have boundaries.”

“What’s mine is yours, Dean. I have no qualms sharing everything I have with you.”

Dean scoffs, leaning forward over the steering wheel and tilting to pop his spine. “Jesus. You ol’ romantic.”

Cas turns his head to look at Dean. The slightly uncomfortable smirk slowly slips off of Dean’s face. His eyes drop to Cas' lips before he catches himself, and he makes a weak attempt to laugh the charge out of the air between them.

“Man, you gotta figure out your levels. Last person who looked at me like that had me thinking marriage."

“Dean, why do you say things like that?”

Dean’s shoulders shove up under his ears. “You turn eyes like that on some innocent girl she’s gonna up and devote her entire life to you, Cas, I’m just letting you know you gotta tone it down!”

“Why would I turn eyes like this on some innocent girl?”

“Because you’re doin’ it to me like you think it’s a normal thing to do!”

“Dean, maybe you need to figure out how to receive a signal without assuming the other person isn't aware of what they're broadcasting." Cas snaps, then subsides as something like fear flickers across his face.

Dean’s jaw hangs uselessly for a stunned moment.

"Cas. You–"

Cas watches him in the manner of a gazelle waiting for a sudden deadly movement. Dean's gaze flits to Cas’ lips again.

"You. Uh." He says eloquently, and his tongue darts out in a nervous motion. This makes his lips impossible to ignore, shiny and wet in the moonlight.

“It's not Everest." Cas whispers.

"It kinda fuckin' is." Dean says, hoarse.

“Forget it. You should go back to sleep.” Cas says, reaching towards Dean with two fingers. It’s his fighter’s instinct that makes Dean grab them before they can touch his forehead, but it’s something else entirely that bunches his other hand in the front of Cas’ coat and yanks him forward. Cas tumbles gracelessly on top of Dean, and Dean doesn’t give either of them time to think.

At the first touch of Dean’s lips, Cas melts. A tiny sound escapes him, not quite a sigh, not quite a moan, and he’s grasping Dean’s shoulder like it’s the only thing preventing him from falling into the footwell. Their mouths part with a soft, wet noise and Cas meets Dean’s eyes, almost too close to focus on.

His arm is pressed across Dean’s chest from his fall. He can feel Dean’s heartbeat, galloping like an outlaw with the sheriff on his tail, and he understands the feeling.

“Dean.” He croaks.

“Yeah.”

“Do that again.”

Dean nuzzles their noses together, nudges Cas’ mouth in a barely-there brush of lips. Cas touches Dean’s face, dizzy with it, feeling stubble rough on the skin of Dean's jaw. He presses forward, holding Dean’s face like the beloved thing it is, and kisses him reverently. Dean sinks against the door until he’s lying across the seats and shoves his arms up under Cas’ suit jacket, encircling his back.

The crickets play them a love song. It’s entirely lost on them.

When Sam returns, approaching the Impala with caution, he finds his brother asleep with his angel hugged against him like a large, man-shaped teddy bear. Cas glances up, clocking the motion of Sam leaning over to peer through the driver’s window, and there’s a smile on his face that Sam’s never seen on him before.

If happy was what he had been, then this? This is pure, unfiltered bliss.

Sam slides carefully into the back seat and shuts the door as gently as he can.

“I’ll save my I Told You So, but only because you look so cute.” He whispers.

“Sam.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Read on Ao3

[imaginativeamateur]

HEY!!!! I read your kakashi x reader in which kakshi takes care of tired reader and it was *chef’s kiss* so i was thinking if you could a kakashi x reader in which the reader gets poisoned during a mission. They get a small scratch so it does not work quickly. So when they get home, they start to feel a bit dizzy and then start coughing up blood LOTS of blood ( if you don’t mind). So kakashi gets worried and takes them to the hospital. When they get there tsunade tells them it is a rare type of poison so they will need a day or two to make the antidote. So the reader is in pain and coughing up blood. Kakashi tries their best to comfort them. Sorry it is long. Feel free to ignore it. Sorry for bad english. THANK YOU ✨

[Kakashi Hatake X Reader] Unbearable

Pairing: Kakashi Hatake x gn!Reader

Note: Firstly, I'm glad that you like that piece, anon:D and your idea is fantastic!!! Okay, this one is a bit longer than what I usually write for, probably around 2,000 words. It's a mix of angst and fluff, the ending is fluffy though. And I didn't know what to name this one either:D Without further ado, please enjoy!

You pushed the door open, exclaiming happily when you finally got to sniff the familiar scent of his signature dishes, “I’m home, Kakashi!”

“How was your mission, love?” Wiping his palms on a handkerchief, he lifted his eyes from the pan to quickly examine if you had any injuries.

“Absolutely successful! We captured and brought the rebels back for investigation. My captain will be reporting it to the Hokage so I’m off for now!” You made your way next to him in the kitchen, pulling off your gloves in the process, “What are you making?”

Kakashi went off talking about the dishes he was preparing for your dinner but your mind turned fuzzy in the middle of his sentence. You lost your balance and tumbled backward as your sight blurred, not able to see anything clearly. With his quick reflex, the Copy Ninja caught you by your forearm and guided you to the floor, constantly asking if you were okay. Kakashi’s visible eye widened, brows furrowing as his hands roamed to search for any injuries that his eyes did not catch. You had no fatal wounds except for several scratches here and there, and he could sense your depleted chakra level. Lifting your body up in his arms, he whispered as he carried you to your shared bedroom, “You probably overused your chakra again. You should be back to normal tomorrow after a good rest.”

You sprawled tiredly in your bed, having no appetite for a meal and Kakashi respected it, he knew when it came to reviving a Ninja’s chakra, nothing would be able to beat some decent sleep. He let you stay by yourself for a few hours and went to finish his reports, returning to check on you once in a while. When he was finally done with work, Kakashi quietly slipped under the blanket on his side of the bed, carefully scooted closer to your warmth, hugged you close, and peacefully closed his eyes. In the middle of the night, you were woken up by the burning sensation that coursed through your entire body and a terrible headache, having just enough time to flip onto your side in case you would vomit right then and there. And you suddenly coughed, your throat was torn when the crimson liquid spattered onto the white tiles, bled your shirt, and dripped down from your chin. Being a light sleeper, the silver-haired immediately shot up from his pillow, switched the lights on, and scrambled down to the ground. You were trembling for the time being, and within a split second, Kakashi scooped your motionless body in his arms, rushing for the hospital.

He knew for sure that you were poisoned given the symptoms that were starting to surface. The hospital workers were greatly intimidated by the threatening aura that he sent, still hugging you tight as he brought you to the operation room himself. You continued to cough in his arms, and he did not mind his turtleneck being covered entirely by your blood. Tsunade arrived with a hurried disposition, and Sakura followed close behind her lead. Kakashi immediately reported your condition to the Fifth Hokage, grimacing when he saw blood pooling on the hospital bed as the Medic’s chakra slowly entered your body. He fought to retain himself—to not sprint to your side and cradle you tight, to not bring his hand up and wipe the blood staining the corner of your lips. It was all too much to him to see you panting in agony—

“Sakura,” the blonde Medic commanded, “set up for poison extraction. Get three more people.”

The pink-haired left the room after her teacher’s assignment, fleeting on her feet when she saw your tightly shut eyes and Kakashi’s scary expression as though he was going to burn the place down. Tsunade turned to the Copy Ninja, who was leaning against the wall with a visible eye that settled a tone darker, and called, “Kakashi, I need you to hold Y/N down when I extract the poison.”

He shuddered, unsure if he would still be able to maintain the last bit of composure left. The silver-haired found it impossible to remain himself when came to your safety, but he padded to your side, shaking hands reaching out to the pale face of yours. The Godaime assured him that everything would be okay and the man took a deep breath, moving his palms to rest on both of your shoulders as the rest of the team arrived, getting to work the second they passed the door. Kakashi held onto your upper body and arms, pinning you down onto the bed when the blonde started to focus chakra on her hands. “It’ll hurt, make sure Y/N stays still,” she said before the glowing green entered your body.

Kakashi could feel his sweats running cold against his temple, his uncovered eye fixed on Tsunade's hands, periodically glancing back at your face to make sure that you were fine. His grip on your wrists was tight but not bruising, fearing that it would add to the pain that you were already enduring from the poison. The Copy Ninja had his other forearm across your shoulder blades, pressing your torso in place as the Medic worked diligently. It hurt and you yelped, shrieking from the pure pain every time her chakra seeped inside. Kakashi was restless, biting on his own lips to halt himself from releasing his grasp and hug you tight. Your eyes turned dull when Tsunade finally got the last bit of poison out of your system, heavily placing your head back onto the damp pillow as the silver-haired wiped the sweats on your forehead. When all of you thought it was over, things took a different turn—for worse.

Pain suddenly shot through your body, and you started to cough more vigorously than earlier, blood covered the white sheets of the hospital bed. The whole room turned their attention back on your figure, your eyelashes fluttered, wincing when you felt the tiniest bits of your muscles being squeezed and ripped apart. Kakashi stepped back when he looked at his hands smeared by your blood, and grimaced, “… Didn’t you get the poison out already?”

The Medic furrowed her brows, examining the extract she got in a test tube, “It’s my first time seeing this type.”

Kakashi went feral, “How long?”

The sounds of your coughs filled the quiet atmosphere of the operation room. Every ticking of the clock seemed too audibly loud each passing second the blonde observed the Copy Ninja’s face. She eventually sighed and turned to the exit, “I’m not sure. It will take a while for us to create the antidote.”

“You can’t leave Y/N suffering like this, Lady Tsunade,” he breathed out laboriously, “I can’t.”

Kakashi’s words left his lips like a desperate plea as he stared at the ground. Tsunade shut her eyes to summon enough vigor to walk out of the room. Sakura hesitantly left shortly after, silently closing the door after sending her former sensei a sympathetic look. With shaking legs that were almost unable to hold him up, the silver-haired made his way to a chair beside your bed, tracing his thumb across your lips to wipe the bloodstain away. As a Shinobi, he was too accustomed to seeing open wounds and deep gashes—too familiar with his body covered in blood after a mission, especially when he got injured. But seeing you in this state made him crumble in dejection and turmoil.

“Kakashi,” your inaudible whisper pulled him out of his deep thoughts, “what if I…”

Before you were able to finish your sentence, Kakashi hushed you with a sign as he pulled the blanket up to your chest, “Don’t say anything, love. I’m not going to let you…” And he trailed off, finding it hardly possible to continue what he was saying. You were still in pain, forehead scrunched up to restrain the groans from eliciting, tight fists hidden under the cover because you did not want him to be more distressed than he already was. Kakashi slouched his back, head dropping into his palms, cursing under his breath, “I should’ve come with you, should’ve been more careful, should’ve gotten you to the hospital sooner. I-I’m sorry, Y/N… Please, please just be okay.”

His words fell apart, slipping past his lips muffled and croaked. It had been a long while since he last felt the wet droplets tittering on the edge of his lash line—range and misery boiled in his veins as he swore to himself this would be the last time he would see you like this for as long as he was alive. He did not dare to look at you, not when he had to helplessly witness his dearest person suffering. Your breathing decelerated, the sweats beading your hairline and neck had long evaporated, and you fell asleep between his soft whispers, exhausted and drained.

Every hour passed with dread for everyone. Each time Tsunade came back to check on you set up a thin wall of hope but it all shattered shortly when she shook her head and withdrew out of the room. You were coughing less, but that did not ease the Copy Ninja because you were shriveling impossibly lifeless. You could not swallow whatever food they supplied, only able to intake water and intravenous fluid. It was after lunch when Tsunade knocked on the door—two days since you were brought to the hospital, one day since you went unconscious—and Kakashi went to slide it open for her. No longer displayed a hopeful expression, he could not bear the disappointment and emptiness from the Medic’s shake of her head. But this time, Tsunade came with good news.

“We found the antidote.”

A single sentence from the blonde levitated the somber atmosphere that was clouding Kakashi’s mind. A contented smile found its way across his lips—though covered by the mask, Tsunade could clearly see his pupil dilating and the furrow between his brows starting to slowly vanish. With a quick move, she injected the solution into your arm with Kakashi watching closely, not letting any details went unnoticed.

“The fever should be gone after lunch, I’m not quite sure when Y/N will wake up though. That depends on an individual’s ability to recover.” She stated, “You two take care.”

The silver-haired thanked the Godaime and shut the door after she had left for several seconds. Then, he went back for a quick shower—the last thing he wanted was you worrying for his enervated appearance after two days without rest—not forgetting to plant a kiss on your forehead before leaving. When he returned, Kakashi brought a basket of fresh fruits with him, carefully peeling oranges and placing them on a plate for you in advance. He even went as far as bringing your pillow because you would be staying for another few days, and he wanted to make you feel comfortable. After checking over everything, he leaned his head back and closed his eye, stealing a quick nap with your hand in his—so he would know when you wake up.

The moment your eyes fluttered open, you quickly scanned the room, and your gaze settled on the very Hatake sleeping peacefully, then to his fingers intertwining yours. You let out a soft breath, “Thank you, Kakashi.”

------------------

Taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu @thenightfallingstar @iam-gaaras-loveintrest @animepickle7

[imagine-darksiders]

A gentle touch.

[Strife/Reader]

Summary: Set three years after humanity is resurrected. Strife shows up unannounced in your bedroom in the middle of the night, which would have been rude enough without him getting blood all over your cream-coloured carpet.

Tags: Blood, injury, PTSD, knife, protective Strife, whump, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, sharing a bed ;), bandages and cleaning wounds, how not to administer first aid.

-----

You have the apocalypse to thank for turning you into such a light-sleeper. 

Even though the nights of sleeping with one eye open are far behind you and Earth is back on the road to a long and arduous recovery, you'll still jolt awake if your unconscious mind hears something scuttle beneath the floorboards of your freshly-restored home, and God forbid a tree branch should happen to scratch at the bedroom window...

Waking up with the feeling that your heart is three beats from bursting right out of your chest is exhausting, to say the least. And it isn't just you who suffers from the onset of hyper-vigilance.

It was a decidedly cruel consequence that the resurrected humans were able to recall their lives before the end of the world. Crueller still, they woke up to remember exactly how and where they eventually kicked the bucket, and of course, nobody knew that a significant chunk of time had passed at all since the end of the world and its rebirth.

They thought they were still in danger.

In one moment, all they knew was immense and excruciating pain, and then, in what seemed like the blink of an eye, they woke up again, screaming and writhing in the echoes of phantom pain that had occurred almost a century ago.

Three years down the line since ‘The Great Waking,’ and there isn’t a human alive who could claim that they’ve slept through an uninterrupted night.

------

The alarm clock on your bedside table has just ticked over to read '2:36am' when your eyes suddenly snap open and you fling yourself upright in bed, your spine ramrod straight and your ears ringing with a sharp, tinny note.

It isn’t a nightmare that wakes you. At least, not this time.

Worse.

It’s a sound.

An out-of-the-ordinary sound that isn't in keeping with the normal ambiance of your bedroom.

But where...? 

....It's coming from your window.

Tired eyes swivel to the curtains whilst your hand immediately flies out to blindly fumble with the drawer of your bedside table. Once your fingers find the cold, metal handle, you rip it open and plunge your hand inside, rummaging around until you feel the reassuring grip of your most precious possession.

Your trusty bread knife. Serrated edge, nine inch blade, perfect for cutting slices of toast in the morning and for tearing through the toughened hide of a hungry demon.

Peace between the Universe’s species had been declared once humanity was fully introduced to the connected realms, a decision that suited a vast majority of Creation. Hell, however, had offered up a fair amount of opposition to the notion before eventually conceding and agreeing – albeit begrudgingly – to honour the peace treaty alongside angels, makers, undead and the rest.

Even demon-kind knew not to incur the wrath of humanity's strongest and most ferocious protectors, the Horsemen.

But... there are always exceptions to the rule. Some demons just... hadn't gotten the memo.

It wouldn’t be the first time one of them had tried to make an assassination attempt on humanity’s envoy.

Heart in your throat, you grasp the knife securely in your dominant hand and peer through the darkness towards the window. 

Only a sliver of moonlight peeps through a tiny gap in the curtains. In another blink, the light suddenly disappears, and you know better than to assume that the moon has simply ducked behind a cloud. 

Something is standing at your window, blocking out the light.

You think you might actually be sick when you hear the sound again, claws scraping on wood – a sound you know all too well – well enough to send your head spinning into a panic.

Swallowing back the nausea in your throat, you brace yourself, instincts flicking between running for the door and knowing never to turn your back on a demon.

Sadly, the decision is swiftly taken out of your hands. Through the darkness and the deafening roar of blood rushing through your ears, you can make out the distinct sound of your window sliding slowly open.

The knife is a comforting weight in your hand. But it’s less than useless if you don’t calm down and try to remember the lessons that Death has taught you. If the eldest Horseman were here, he’d probably have berated you seven ways to Sunday by now for freezing up and missing an opportunity to better prepare yourself for an attack.

A dark silhouette pushes the fluttering fabric of your curtains aside and pulls itself halfway into your bedroom. 

Whatever it is, it’s big.

Breath catching in your throat, you clasp a handful of your duvet and get ready to fling it at the intruder as a distraction, hoping that it’ll be enough to buy you a precious few seconds to gain the upper hand. You've learned that humans are inherently weaker than demons, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned from Death, it’s that strength isn’t necessarily the deciding factor in any battle. You still have your wits. You only hope the demon has less.

Two luminous, golden eyes turn in your direction and you press yourself backwards into the headboard.

Several seconds drag by in perfect silence.

Then... 

“Hey.”

And just like, that tension leaves your body like a balloon deflating of air and you heave the loudest sigh you can muster, dropping the bread knife into your lap.

“Damn it, Strife! You about gave me a heart attack!”

With a 'whump,' you flop back against your pillows and take a second to breathe whilst one of the Four Horsemen drags himself the rest of the way through your bedroom window.

Strife.

It's only Strife...

Whilst certainly a dangerous being in his own right, you know you have nothing to fear from the Horseman who had all but appointed himself as your friend three, long years ago, all in an attempt to irritate his brother, Death, of course.

At least, at first.

Death was the one who pulled you from the dying Earth and preserved your life-force as you journeyed together on a quest to resurrect humanity, but after he made the jump to introduce you to his 'little' siblings, it had been Strife who'd taken a particular shine to you, and it had everything to do with a compatible, if terrible sense of humour.

That first meeting sparked what was sure to be an interesting friendship between the pair of you.

-----

“So, my brother went and got himself a human, huh?” Strife had teased, pointedly ignoring the withering look he received from Death to add, “Gotta say, I'm impressed, Kid. Didn't think anyone would have the inclination to willingly travel with my brother. But then, I guess...” He trailed off and you could almost see the smirk growing under his mask. “Deathperate times and all that, huh?”

At once, his siblings all groaned out varying noises of disapproval. Fury, the loudest, cocked her hip and shot Strife a frosty glower. “You are singlehandedly ruining our reputation, brother."

“She's right, you know,” you spoke up, trying not to flinch when all eyes snapped onto you once more, “That pun was pretty deadful.”

The brief, startled second of silence was soon blasted apart when Strife threw his head back and barked out a triumphant laugh, while Death slowly turned to look at you, utterly betrayed.

“Ha!” Strife's eyes positively gleamed with mischief, “You're right, human. Guess I should'a considered the reapercussions of a joke like that, huh?”

“I ought to have known introducing you two would be a mistake,” the eldest Horseman grumbled, earning a sympathetic look from War.

“Sorry, Death,” you said with a perfectly straight face, “You want us to get out of your scythe so you don’t have to look at us anymore?”

Strife had howled.

Death, however, merely heaved a long-suffering sigh. Fury's eyes all but rolled into the back of her skull and War just stood there, struggling to keep his lips from twitching at their corners.

And you had looked around at all of them, a little proud and blissfully unaware of what you'd just unwittingly signed yourself up for.

You'd had Strife's attention from that day on.

-----

Shaking off the fond memory, you tiredly will your mind back to the matter at hand.

You reach across your bed and drop the knife back into the drawer before leaning down and skirting your fingers over the wall in search of a switch. The next moment, there's a 'click!' and the room is illuminated by clustered fairy lights that you've draped around your ceiling, forcing you to squint blearily against the intrusion of light as Strife hauls his leg into your room.

“Honestly. How many times have I told you to use the door?”

“S'locked,” he grunts.

You're in the midst of rubbing your eyes to try and stimulate a little life back into your bones, so you miss the way he stumbles a few steps away from the wall and presses a gauntleted hand to his abdomen. 

“Yeah, it’s locked because it's-” You take a quick glance at the clock next to you. “-Two thirty in the morning! Strife, I’m supposed to be up at six to meet Ulthane! What do you need so badly that you'd-... Hey.. Are.. are you okay?”

At last taking a long, hard look, it suddenly occurs to you that the Horseman is... not entirely himself.

He's hunched over, his shoulders pulled in around his neck and his chest rising and falling in long, languid motions. The tattered cowl he wears around his neck hangs loose around his collarbones and it faces the very real threat of slipping off to the floor. At last, your eyes drop to the hand that's clamped over the left side of his abdomen and you blurt out a startled gasp.

In the paltry, pink glow of your fairy lights, you spot an unmistakably crimson liquid dribbling between his fingers, starkly contrasted against the steel-grey colour of his armour.

The next few seconds pass in a blur as you frantically begin kicking off your duvet and scramble out of bed, flying across the room to the Horseman's side.

“Strife! What'd you do!?”

“Oh, that's real sweet,” the Nephilim chuckles wryly whilst he collapses back against the wall and slides down it with a strained grunt, “Why're you – ung... assuming it's something I did?”

Without missing a beat, you snap, “This would hardly be the first time you got hurt because you're a wise-cracking jokester with a big mouth! Now tell me who you pissed off?!”

You drop onto your knees next to him and reach out, fingers hovering tentatively above his stomach. With your focus directed away from his helm, Strife doesn’t bother to hide the way his eyes dart from left to right before they settle back on the top of your head.

“Ah, it was... just some demon, caught me slackin', that's all,” he shrugs, letting you carefully grasp his wrist and lift it away from his torso.

At once, fresh blood gushes from a deep gouge cut into in the dark, leather under-skin he wears beneath his cuirass and you yelp, slapping a hand over your mouth in abject horror.

The sound draws Strife's gaze to you and once he spots the shocked despair on your face, he gives himself a mental kick.

He hadn't meant to... He... doesn't like it when you’re scared because of him.

"Hey, no, no – I'm okay!” he rushes to reassure you, “Don't worry about this. I've had worse!”

“That's not the point, Strife!” you argue, dropping his wrist and carding your hands through your hair, “You're hurt now! And I don't – there's so much blood, and you-” Cutting yourself off, you squeeze your eyes shut and inhale deeply through your nose, willing your pulse to ease so that you can rationally address this situation. 

Another lesson Death had taught you - stay calm in a crisis. Panic kills.

Releasing a long, hard breath, you peel your eyes open again and nod, jaw set. “Okay. All right. I need to.. I need water. A-and I need to see the wound.”

The interrogation can come after you've dealt with... this.

“There's a bowl and flannel in my bathroom,” you announce, getting to your unsteady feet and gesturing towards Strife's cuirass, “Think you can get that off so I can have a look?”

Huffing out a breath of laughter, the Horseman winks at you suggestively and drawls, “An' here I was doin' things the hard way to get your attention. You know, you didn't have to wait till I got myself gutted before you asked me to take my armour off in your chambers.”

A wise-cracking flirt with a big mouth.

As exasperating as he is though, you don't mind it in the slightest.

This is your usual rapport, after all. A friendly back and forth interlaced with the occasional, flirtatious comment. At first, Strife had only initiated it because it drove an over-protective Death up the wall. The eldest Horseman had almost threatened to 'remove Strife's libido' until you'd up and flirted right back, distressing the old reaper even further.

It's funny. It's innocent. But right now, it's reassuring, if only somewhat, that Strife is behaving just like his shameless, old self.

Besides, you can give back as much as you get.

“Well, I had to wait for a good enough excuse,” you retort, “Couldn't come on too strong and risk scaring you off, now could I?”

In response, Strife just chuckles fondly and watches you turn and speed away to your ensuite, oblivious to the warm, soft glow radiating from his eyes.

In less than a minute, you're briskly striding back into the room, a dripping flannel in one hand and a bowl in the other, and he suddenly remembers that you'd asked him to remove his cuirass.

Mission failed.

But you don't even bat an eyelid to find it still in place, assuming that the Horseman can't get at the catches on the sides in his current state. 

In one, smooth motion, you drop down beside him once more and set the cloth and bowl nearby. “Here, let me help..”

The Horseman's pulse sputters when your tiny fingers reach around his torso and fumble with the buckles and straps that keep his armour securely in place. It doesn't pass his notice that your hands are trembling.

“Hey,” he calls, catching your eye for a moment before you go right back to fiddling with the cuirass, “This is nothin’, you know that, right?”

You only press your lips together and hum, clearly skeptical.

You're working fast and in almost no time at all, the straps have been released and you carefully take the Nephilim's broad shoulder, giving it a tug, guiding him to lean away from the walls so that you can start to peel the bulky armour off.

“Nng, hang on,” he mutters.

Reluctantly, you sit back to let him tug his chest piece loose before he simply drops it onto the carpet next to his legs with a dull 'clang.'

Exposed to the soft glow of your lights, your eyes are instantly drawn to the gaping wound that stretches in a horizontal line across the left side of his abdomen. It seems that something really has tried - and nearly succeeded - to gut him. Several inches long and goodness knows how deep, even against the iron-grey colour of his skin, the gash is alarmingly obvious and the blood far, far too noticeable for your liking. It still comes as something of a shock to learn that the Horsemen, barring Death, can actually bleed.

Wordlessly, you pick up the flannel and wring it out into the bowl of water, wondering if he'll mind that you didn't wait for the tap to get warm before you soaked it. It shouldn't surprise you that the Horseman doesn't protest or even flinch when you gently press the wet cloth to the bloodied skin around his wound, nowhere near the gash itself, not until you've cleared away some of the mess around it and determined its real depth.

You don't notice that his eyelids flutter closed once you press the cloth to his skin, nor do you see when their golden light fluctuates in contentment as the fingertips of your other hand press gently to his stomach, the pressure barely enough for him to feel, but enough to keep you steady whilst you daub at his drying blood.

It takes a formidable effort to suppress the shudder that nearly races up his spine. This is the first time he's felt your skin against his without a single piece of armour standing between you.

Creator, you're so soft! Just like he always imagined you would be.

“Jeezus, Strife,” you whistle, abruptly snatching his focus away from the soothing strokes of your silky fingers,“You've made a real mess of yourself. Why on Earth didn't you just go straight to Death? I thought he was the best healer in your family.”

The warm skin underneath your fingertips jumps as the Horseman puffs out a quick laugh, gazing dopily at your temple whilst you wipe at the edges of his wound with small, careful touches. 

“He is,” Strife readily agrees, “But the moody bastard wouldn't be nearly as gentle with me as you are.”

You blow an unimpressed huff from your nose and glance up at him in time to catch his lazy wink. “I can always press harder if you like?”

“Nah.” The Horseman settles himself more heavily against the wall, knocking his skull back against it and mumbling, “Just keep touchin' me all gentle like that. S'nice...”

Quite abruptly, the chatty Nephilim goes silent and the glow from his eyes that had illuminated your face only moments ago suddenly disappears.

“Strife?”

He doesn't respond.

“Hey, Cowboy! Don't you fall asleep on me, you hear?”

There's a long stretch of silence, then, “Won't,” he mumbles, cracking one eyelid open to peer down at you.

Harrumphing, you promptly turn back to the gash in his stomach and wipe the last of the dried blood off his skin, still far from clean, but at the very least, better than it had been.

“Right,” you declare, pulling away to stand up and drawing a decidedly petulant whine from the Horseman on your bedroom floor. “I'm gonna go get the first aid kit from downstairs.”

There’s a shift in his expression and something that hinges on alarm suddenly whistles through his blood.

“I won’t be long,” you promise, "Be right – Hey, woah! What're you doing!?”

Darting forwards, you hastily place your hands on each of Strife's broad shoulders, trying to push him back down as he grabs the window sill behind him and begins hauling himself up to his feet.

“What's it look like ‘m doing?” he answers gruffly, slouching forwards as if the weight of his own head is too much to keep aloft, “Comin’ with you”

Sputtering out a few, incredulous noises, you try to make him see sense. “I’ll bring the first aid kit to you! You need to rest! It's bad enough that you already climbed in through my second storey window!”

But Strife, stubborn as a mule and much, much stronger than you, isn't deterred by your protests. Grunting, he curls one arm over his stomach and takes a step forwards, ducking beneath your light fixture and standing to his full, imposing height.

Even with three years of companionship behind you, you’re still frequently taken aback at how effortlessly the Horseman can make you feel small and fragile when you stand close to him.

Knowing full well that you’ll never be able to force him down again, you allow your hands to slip from his shoulders and fall against your sides like lead weights. You aren’t sure why he’s suddenly so hellbent on following you, downstairs, of all places, but you don’t dwell on it, especially given that you’re far more preoccupied with the fresh blood that has already begun trickling out of his wound to replace the stains you’ve painstakingly cleaned away.

Puffing out your cheeks, you raise a hand and pinch the bridge of your nose. “Strife, please sit down?” You aren’t so proud that you won’t resort to begging, tired as you are and exasperated with his obstinate behaviour. “I’m worried about you...”

All at once, the Horseman stiffens. ‘Oh, now she’s fighting dirty,’ he muses to himself.

Gradually, you lift your eyes to meet his and try your very best to glare up at him, pinning him down with all the stern authority you can muster. For several, slow heartbeats, the Nephilim peers right back at you and you’re almost certain that you’ll lose this battle of wills, which is why it comes as such a shock when his fiery gaze falters, wavering slightly before it promptly drops to the floor near your feet.

It's... rare for Strife to be looked at by someone who isn't ashamed to show that they worry about him.

But the way you're looking at him now? Hell, the way you've been looking at him since he clambered through your bedroom window? You're practically broadcasting your concern.

Strife just... isn't used to seeing that. So he glances down instead, finding the fibres of your carpet particularly exhilarating tonight. Slowly, begrudgingly, he sinks down to sit on the edge of your bed, heavy enough that the frame creaks and groans under the weight of a fully grown Nephilim and he has to hold back a contented sigh at the softness beneath his legs.

From the corner of an eye, he can see that your jaw is hanging ajar and remains so until you give yourself a little shake and throw him a satisfied nod. “Thank you,” you huff before turning on your heel and striding purposefully from the room.

Strife listens raptly to your footsteps disappearing down the staircase, unaware that his hands have curled into tight fists around your duvet.

'It's fine,' he assuages the insistent voice at the back of his head, 'She's fine.'

He took care of the threat. That demon asshole isn't coming after his friend.

You’re only downstairs. He can already hear you pushing open the door to your little kitchen whilst the rest of his senses remain trained on the sounds and smells of the night.

It isn't as though something bad might happen just because his eyes aren't fixed upon you...

Frankly, he thinks he’s being more than generous to allow a full, Earth minute to pass as he taps his heel impatiently against the side of your bed.

Didn’t you say you’d be right back?

...

“Fuck it...”

-------

Perhaps, in hindsight, keeping your first aid kit on the top of the fridge hadn’t been one of your brightest ideas, given that you need a chair to reach it. Then again, securing immediate access to bandages and plasters hadn’t exactly been on the forefront of your mind when you were rebuilding your old home from the ruins it had been left in.

With a grunt, you drop your rickety kitchen chair next to the fridge and clamber up onto the seat. “I have got to find a better place for you,” you grumble at an apathetic first aid kit that sits gathering dust near the wall. Stretching your arm out, you manage to snag it by the handle and drag it towards you-

“The hell're you doing!?”

The violent jolt that shoots through you like lightening nearly sends you toppling off the chair. You let out a yelp, just barely catching yourself on the fridge with your free hand before you whip about to see none other than Strife silhouetted in the kitchen doorway.

“Wh- the hell are you doing!?” you retort, knitting your brows into a frown and clutching the first aid kit against your heaving chest, “Why aren’t you upstairs?”

The Horseman’s glowing eyes are fixed unsettlingly on the chair beneath your feet and rather than answer the question, he ducks under the doorframe and thunders towards you in a few, short strides, leaving you with no time to protest before he suddenly sweeps you up off the chair and into his arms, caging you against a solid chest.

At once, you begin to struggle. “Strife! Your wound! Put me down, you'll hurt yourself!”

But the Nephilim is hardly paying attention. His glare lingers on the flimsy, wooden chair legs for a moment before he flicks his gaze towards the large window above your sink, noting with no small degree of distaste that it isn't even shut.

It’s like you’re inviting danger in.

If you had any idea of the fate he and his siblings are currently trying to protect you from, you might just try a little harder to take better care of yourself.

“Hey!” you continue to protest against his hold but manage to refrain from jostling about too much, mindful of his injury. “For god's sake! What's gotten into you?!”

He offers little more than a noncommittal grunt in response and begins trailing back towards the staircase, casting brief glances at the french doors leading out onto your patio.

'Structural weakness,' he registers, 'Perfect point of entry for anything smaller than a Trauma...'

Shaking his head, he turns sideways to fit you through the kitchen door and takes the stairs up to your room.

After a second, he lowers his eyes to meet yours and finds himself meeting a highly unimpressed scowl. “What?” he asks, the very picture of innocence.

Raising your brows, you snap, “Don't you 'what' me! The hell is all this about? I told you to stay put!”

“You were takin' too long,” he shrugs.

“Too long!?” Indignant, you flick your wrist and rap the first aid kit against his collar bone, “I was gone a minute, max! If you were so worried about me taking too long to fix you up, then why are you moving around and making your injury worse!?”

The light of Strife's golden gaze dims and he turns his head away, staring up towards the top of the stairs and your bedroom door beyond. “S'not me m' worried about,” he mumbles.

It's such an about-face from his usual demeanour that you can do little but blink dumbly up at him and fall still against his chest, your mouth hanging agape.

In silence, the Horseman ducks through the door into your room and sidles over to the bed where, hesitantly, he lowers you down until you're sitting safely on the edge.

In the next moment however, just as Strife drops heavily onto the bed next to you, you slip away and settle on the floor instead, placing the first aid kit beside his boots and fumbling with the latches.

Despite blowing out a rough grumble of disapproval that sounds entirely too much like War for his liking, he lets you go.

Chewing on your lip, you stare at the contents for a moment before snatching up a pack of antiseptic wipes, tearing one out and bringing it up to his stomach.

“You want to tell me why you just exacerbated your injury to rescue me from my kitchen chair?” you ask him, adding as an afterthought, “This might sting a bit..”

When he doesn't reply, you glance up and quirk a brow at the underside of his chin, only to catch him peering back at you from behind heavy-lidded eyes. Then, with a weary sigh, he sags forwards and raises a hand to rub at the back of his neck, looking sheepish, of all things.

Unable to dispel your frown, you blindly begin brushing the wipe underneath his bleeding wound.

He doesn't even wince.

Strife tips his helm towards the bedroom window and slumps further backwards into your mattress, seeming so entirely out of place amidst the colourful duvet cover and frilly cushions.

“Okay,” he mutters, “I uh, I got a confession to make.”

Interest piqued, you make an acknowledging sound at the back of your throat and return your attention to his abdomen.

“Death didn't want us to tell you about this,” he continues quietly whilst you toss the now ruined wipe over your shoulder and pull out a fresh one, “And, to be honest, neither did I. We didn't want you to have to worry, y'know?”

You don't know. And you nearly ask him what you should be worrying about, but you soon let your mouth fall shut and settle for humming curiously instead, trusting that he'll tell you soon enough anyway.

There's a long pause, during which you find the courage to bring your fingers close to the edges of his wound and immediately have to withhold a gag when the motion sends another spout of blood oozing from the cut and dribbling down your wrist.

After a moment, Strife huffs and forges ahead, “Course, War and Fury did want to tell you-”

He's stalling, you realise belatedly.

“-War thinks you have every right to know. And Fury said there's nothin' for you to worry about anyway, cause we've got your back.”

“Fury said that?” you ask distractedly, dropping the wipe and rummaging around for a gauze pad. In response, Strife exhales, a tiny, hidden smile creeping onto his lips. “Fury says a lot of stuff about you that you don't know about.”

Gently, you unroll the gauze and press it against his wound. “Wow, you sure that's your sister?  Sounds like she might've been body snatched.”

“Ha!” The Horseman suddenly throws his head back. “Well, if she has been replaced, I sure as shit ain't going lookin' for the original. This Fury is... she's...”

He pauses, tipping his head in thought before eventually settling on, “She's learning.”

You blow out a long, impressed whistle and he nods his agreement, adding, “Yeah, s'weird for all of us too.”

The room lapses into silence once again as you stretch the gauze across Strife's abdomen and mutter, “Hold this,” before your hands are retreating and the Horseman's slide down to keep the bandage in place.

Reaching into the box once more, you take some bandages and begin to unfurl them gingerly over the top of the gauze. “Not hurting you, am I?”

You miss the soft expression he aims at the top of your head. “Never.”

You're more than aware that he probably won't tell you you've hurt him even if you were to stick your fingers in the wound twist them.

“Sooo~....?” you prompt.

Peering down at you, Strife cocks his head to one side and echoes, “Soooo?”

“What did Fury and War think I should know?”

“Oh. Right...” His reluctance is as painfully obvious as a slap to the face but you're slightly more focused on plunging your hand back into the first aid kit and rooting around for a roll of adhesive tape.

He observes you for a moment, growing more and more certain that despite your curiosity, you aren’t actually paying a great deal of attention to his words. Quite abruptly, he asks, “You listening?”

Emitting little more than a vague hum, you finally snag the tape and run your fingernail along the smooth surface, searching for the ever-elusive end.

“You sure?” Strife grunts skeptically, “Kid, this is kind of important.”

Without missing a beat, you nod your chin towards his injury and reply, “Yeah, well, you're kind of important too, buddy.”

Oh.

Oh, that's...

Strife wracks his brain, trying to pluck an appropriate response from amidst his tumbling thoughts. Part of him wants to scoff – of course he's important! He's Strife! The best, damn marksman who ever walked the realms of existence.

But then, there's another part of him that lurks deep behind the walls of hubris and brass he's been building meticulously for centuries, and it gives a little leap at the sound of your words, delighted beyond measure.

Averting his gaze, Strife lets out a chuckle. “You're getting soft.”

“Ah, I've always been soft.”

His heart thrums. “Wasn't talkin' about you, kid.”

You shoot him a smirk as you stick a piece of tape over the bandages covering his injury. “Well, if you're talking about yourself, then you're wrong again. You aren't getting soft. You've always been soft.”

The Horseman mutters something incoherent, but it's his distinct lack of an articulate response that speaks volumes to your ears.

The slight pressure of your fingers as they prod at the tape with tentative care leaves him mourning the centuries he's gone without knowing such a gentle touch. Rolling his eyes down to you, his smile droops and he sighs, sagging forwards to rest his elbows on his knees just as you attempt to place another strip of tape.

“Strife!” you complain, leaning back, “I need to put more tape on!”

He merely blinks at you languidly and says, “Later. I want you concentratin' on me right now.”

“I've been concentrating on you all night,” you huff, though you eventually concede and sit back on your haunches, peering up at the Horseman expectantly.

Studying your face for another moment, he breathes a long sigh and gestures to his stomach. "I told you a demon did this..."

“Uh huh...”

Solemnly, Strife continues, “So more specifically, it was a Shadow Caster. Been on her trail for a couple of weeks now. Finally caught up with her on some farmlands west of the city...” 

“Okay?” you nod, digesting the information, “And why were you on her trail?”

He hesitates, flicking his eyes between you and the window a few times before he quietly admits, “She was comin’ after one of my friends...”

“Who?”

The look he throws you is so pointed, you suddenly feel like a fool for missing the obvious.

“Ah.” Understanding, you slowly nod your head.

“Yup.”

“But, she's dead now, right?” You gesture to his wound. “You came straight here after killing her.”

Strife's eyes darken further and each time they try to land on your face, they seem to slide right off again and drop to the carpet. “Uh, yeah. She's dead.”

You heave a sigh. “She wasn't the only one who's after me.”

“... No..”

“I see.” Inhaling long and slow through your nose, you tip your head back and slap your hands on your thighs, rubbing at them anxiously as you gaze around the room. “So, do we know how many there are?”

The Horseman eyes you for several, silent seconds. Eventually though, he speaks up. “Got wind of a small group of about four of 'em. Demons mostly, one undead. You and I've got a mutual... uh, friend, who's been keeping his ears to the ground, and he reckons they’re aiming to provoke another war between Hell and Earth by killin' the human envoy.”

“Wow. Talk about sore losers,” you scoff humourlessly, “So, who is this mutual friend?”

Some of the tension bleeds out of Strife's posture once he notices that you haven't immediately flown into a panic. “C'mon kid,” he snorts, “You know I can't expose my source. He doesn't want you know that he cares about you. Thinks you might start askin' for discounts if you thought he was getting' soft.”

“Discounts, huh?” Your lips quirk up at their edges and Strife smacks a palm over his mask in mock distress.

“Ah, hell, I gave it away, didn't I?”

“I bet his name rhymes with Shmulgrim, doesn't it?” you laugh.

Chuckling, Strife leans back on his hands again and replies, “Hey, you came to that conclusion on your own. Technically, I never told you who my source was.”

With the atmosphere in your bedroom gradually becoming lighter and lighter, you follow the Horseman's lead and relax backwards onto your hands, stealing a surreptitious glance at the bandages adhered to his torso.

It's no longer as surprising as it used to be that Vulgrim is invested in the well-being of his 'valuable asset.' The Horsemen are perhaps his best clients, hence the vested interest in keeping himself in their good graces by looking out for their human ward.

Shaking your head with a knowing smirk, you push yourself up onto your feet and glance down at yourself, brushing off your pyjama shorts, only to grimace when your hands do nothing but smear Strife's blood all over the fabric.

“Sorry... for the mess.”

You raise your head at the sound of the Horseman's voice and find him glowering down at the stains he's dripped onto your carpet, his eyes hooded and glum.

Heaving a sigh that you hope conveys both exasperation and affection, you reach out and place your comparatively tiny hand on his shoulder to give the pauldron a reassuring squeeze, drawing his gaze back up to your face. “I don't care about the mess, Strife” you tell him matter-of-factly, “The carpet's just here to stop my feet getting cold in the morning. You're my best friend.”

Ever so slowly, his luminous eyes grow wide with wonder and he lets his jaw drop open to speak, but before he manages to utter a soft, 'what?' you give his shoulder a friendly jostle and add, “So long as you're okay, pal, that's the main thing. Now...”

Trailing off, you move back around the bed and let your fingers slide off the Horseman's arm, stepping up to the bedside table containing your pyjamas, oblivious to how swiftly and easily you've just swept the rug out from underneath Strife's feet. He twists himself around on your mattress to watch you, his eyes as wide as than dinner plates.

Did you mean to say... best?

He – well, he always knew that you considered him a friend! Hell, he'd even go so far as to say the two of you are close friends.

But best?

Best implies that there's nobody – nobody – that you hold in higher regard than him...

'How did I miss that!?' his psyche all but screams at him, 'When the Hell did I get so important!?”

You aren't even looking at him, too busy rummaging through your drawers, as if you have no idea that you've just pulled his heart right out of his chest and now you have it cradled in the palms of your hands.

You could crush the life out of him with hardly a word.

“So, you never did say!” you call out to him as you duck into your ensuite bathroom and flick the light on, hiding yourself from view whilst you change, “How does the master of marksmanship get tagged by a Shadowcaster in the first place? You’re not usually the type to get up close and personal. That’s more War’s thing, right?”

All at once, the threats that demon witch had made against you ring like klaxons in Strife’s head and he has to make a conscious effort to ignore his instinct to leap off the bed and barge into the bathroom just to be sure you’re safe. He hears the shuffling of fabric against skin as you pull off the bloodied shorts and begin to pull on the new ones.

Grinding his teeth, he spits out, “She just.. got me mad, is all. Made me wanna have the satisfaction of wringing her neck with my bare hands instead of filling her with bullets.”

“Wait, seriously?” Your silhouette suddenly appears in the bathroom doorway and and strife glances up, briefly enraptured by the halo of light glowing at your back. A fellow human might have likened you to an angel. Strife, however, knows that none of the feathery bastards could hold a candle to you. 

Garbed in clean shorts that smell distinctly of you, and not copper, you step out into your bedroom. “How’d a demon manage to make you mad? You’re like, the champ of not getting mad. It’s like your superpower.”

“Yeah, well..” he mutters, turning his helm away, “This time, she went too far.”

You’re quiet as you flop down onto the bed next to him, your eyes flicking between his downturned head to the fists that are clenched like vices at his sides, metal claws gripping fistfuls of your duvet so tightly, you’re worried he might end up poking holes in the cover.

Whatever had been said to him must have been bad if he’s this riled up.

Biting your lip, you let out a pensive hum and lean backwards, your fingers brushing over a soft lump near the headboard. At once, your eyes grow wide and your lips stretch into a sly grin as your hand closes over something fluffy and familiar.

Strife is still busy stewing when he’s suddenly brought out of his thoughts by a face that’s shoved promptly into his line of sight. He blinks, drawing his head away to properly see what you’re holding up in front of him.

He can’t contain a chuckle once he realises that it’s none other than your old, toy horse, dangling in front of him with its little, black ears flopping forwards to cover a pair of button eyes.

Allowing a smile to grace the edge of his mouth, the Horseman wordlessly relaxes his grasp on your duvet in favour of reaching out to gently take the soft toy out of your hands, lowering it down into his lap.

“I thought David Hasselhoof might make you feel better,” you tell him, bumping your shoulder against his companionably.

The Nephilim simply smiles, stroking his palm over the horse’s fuzzy mane.

“Hey, Strife?” 

“Mmm?”

You fiddle with your fingernail for a moment, dropping your eyes to the bed and taking a breath before you ask, “What did the demon say that made you so angry?”

It isn’t as though you want to pry. But having your friend turn up at your house in the dead of night with his stomach torn open warrants a couple of questions, in your honest opinion.

The Horseman’s brows knit together underneath his helm and he shifts slightly, twisting away from you further until you can’t even see the lights of his eyes. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost dare to say that he looks shy. An impossibility, frankly.

When he speaks, his voice is gentle, a far cry from the normal, strident tone you’re used to hearing. “She, uh, she might’ve made a couple of threats about you.. Bad ones.” 

You wait for him to elaborate, but for some time, he doesn’t utter another word, prompting you to ask, “And?”

You very nearly reel backwards into your headboard when Strife whips around to face you. “And?!” he echoes, incredulous, “The Hell d’you mean ‘and?’ Isn’t that enough of a reason?!”

Taken aback, you lift your hands in a placating gesture and stammer, “Woah! I - I just meant... Well, it’s not like I haven’t been threatened before? Just seems like a weird thing for you to get so angry about.”

Without warning, the enormous Nephilim lurches to his feet, the cuddly horse left to tumble, forgotten out of his lap. “Did you not hear me?” he snaps, “She. Threatened. You!”

“A-and that... made you mad?”

“Did - Of course it did!” he all but howls, his voice cracking as it raises in pitch, “She made me listen to all the god damn, sick things she wanted to do to you when she found you! She said - she said, I’d never see you again!” Roughly, he drags his clawed fingertips through his spiky, black hair and exclaims, “Next thing I know, I’m droppin’ Redemption and Mercy, I’ve got her heart in my fist and I’m... I’m...” 

He trails off, knocked out of stride by his own admission. You remain silent, pressed up against your head board with the blankets clutched to your chest.

When he notices you staring up at him, small and wary amongst the sheets, the frustration saps from him like water circling the drain. “So... so yeah,” he huffs, his shoulders slumping and a great wave of shame crashing over him, “I got a little mad! I got a little pissed off. Cause I didn’t like hearin’ someone say they were gonna hurt my friend.”

And with that, he just... deflates, not unlike a punctured tyre. All the hot air inside him is dispelled with every heave of his mighty chest whilst he peers down at you, feeling the weight of your stare upon him. 

Guilt leaves a sour taste in his mouth, rancid and acidic.

You look so.. 

...scared.

Sometimes Strife forgets that to you, he’s an unassailable figure from biblical legend, a bringer of the end days and an ancient gunman with a body count higher than there are grains of sand on the earth. Of course you’re going to be scared of him when he’s raising his voice at you and towering over you like this. And all because he’d had the life scared out of him in the first place.

“I’m sorry, kid. I didn’t mean to -” The words die on his lips and he sighs, defeatedly casting his eye over towards your bedroom window. He doesn’t want to leave you, not without knowing that his siblings have dealt with the remaining threats to your life. But... “I’ll just.. I’ll go.”

Turning his back on you, the Horseman bends to retrieve his discarded cuirass and takes a step towards the window, but a voice, thin as the cobwebs in the corner of your room, stops him in his tracks.

“Strife.” 

The Horseman doesn’t move. he just stares at the darkness through your curtains.

Minutes pass without another word said between you. He remains stubbornly silent, hardly daring to breathe let alone respond to his name, until eventually, he hears a soft huff and rustling behind him.

Footsteps pad across the room and your scent grows stronger as you draw near, wafting over him like an intoxicating aroma before your hand places itself into his palm and he instinctively curls his fingers around it, shuddering at the feel of your soft skin pressed like silk against his roughened hide.

Your tiny, fragile hand... Creator, he really is just a beast standing next to you, isn’t he? The last time he felt this monstrous was..

No. Strife abruptly slams the shutters of his mind down around any thoughts of the Animus. Now is not the time to let dredge up old memories.

Luckily, your voice breaks through the haze and keeps him grounded. “Come on, big guy. Stay here, please?"

“You want me to stay?” he chokes out a laugh, “Even after I scared you?”

“Scared me? What?” It’s your turn to sound confused. “You didn’t scare me Strife, you shocked me. I’ve never seen you this serious before.” 

The Horseman half turns to face you, giving you a glimpse of his warm, golden eyes. “And, I’ve never had a best friend before.” he admits slowly, hearing a soft intake of breath behind him.

“Wait?... I’m your best friend?”

With your hand still in his, Strife steps around slowly to face you, shooting you a quizzical glance. “Uh, yeah? I mean, I don’t exactly have a plethora of friends to choose from, so the competition isn’t that fie- Oof!”

He’s violently interrupted by a soft, squishy body colliding with his. 

You fling your arms around the stunned Horseman’s waist and bury your face into his chest, momentarily forgetting about his injury. Strife, meanwhile, has to employ every molecule of willpower he owns to refrain from flinching, fearing that you’ll let go if he does. He can’t ignore how high his heart just jumped at the feeling of you pressed against him, nor the way his soul soars after realising that you still trust him enough to get this close. 

It’s something that both he and his siblings are all having to get used to, these impromptu hugs. 

Fury had almost flipped you over her shoulder and onto the ground the first time you came at her with your arms open wide, assuming you were going in for an attack. 

War had pulled the most remarkable face, a mixture of alarm and wary delight that caused Strife to keel over in hysterics when you threw your arms around his broad stomach.

Death... Well, Strife hadn’t been around to witness your first hug with his oldest brother, but he imagines it must have been like hugging a block of cold stone.

And Strife? Well, he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the first hug you gave him. It was so tight and comfortable, and for all of a moment, the only things that existed were the two of you. Inside the binding circle of your arms, his troubles couldn’t touch him, the anguish of his sins took a backseat and he became convinced that he could live happily and peacefully until the end of time trapped in your silent embrace.

The sentiment hasn’t dulled with frequency either. Every hug he receives is as powerful and intoxicating as the last. 

This one is no different. 

Strife's large, thickset arms carefully raise to your delicate back and shoulders, where he simply folds himself around you, pushing the nose of his helm into your soft, messy hair and drawing in a long, deep breath, earning your snort of amusement.

“You a big fan of coconut, then?”

“Is that what that smell is?” he mumbles, feeling the world settle around him as his eyes slip shut, “S'different from last time...”

“...Setting aside the fact that you remember what my hair smelled like last time we hugged.. I ran out of apple shampoo.”

“Mmm.” He trails off, humming into your hair, a sound that rumbles straight through you and leaves the top of your head tingling.

It takes your brain another few seconds to recall the injury on his torso.

“Oh, shit,” you hiss, leaning back and instantly finding your progress blocked by the Horseman's sturdy forearms. “I'm sorry, I didn't think -”

“- Eh, s'fine,” he cuts you off.

“It's not! I forgot, you need to be resting it!”

Strife grumbles his displeasure when you suddenly become very wriggly. “Strife, let go. You should be resting, not standing.”

Cracking one eye open, he roves his gaze over towards your bed. “Resting, huh? …. Not a bad idea.”

Without warning, he stoops down, and for the second time tonight, you find yourself suddenly swept up off your feet, bleating out a garbled squawk of alarm. “Stop picking me up! You'll start bleeding again!”

Smirking to himself, the Horseman takes two, loping steps towards your bed and lowers you down amongst the folds of the duvet, taking great pleasure in crawling over the top of you to get to the other side, armour and all. It isn't the first time he's rested in your bed, usually following a long night of playing your video games and catching up on all the human things he's been missing out on, and it likely won't be the last.

The bed springs creak despondently as he lifts his corner of the duvet and flops heavily onto his side next to you, grinning at the unimpressed glare you're shooting him.

“I like your bed,” he announces, burrowing himself deeper beneath the duvet, “You got a lot of pillows. And-”

His hand rustles beneath the covers for a moment before he winks... and slowly draws out David Hasselhoof, wiggling him back and forth in front of your eyes. “There's room for a threesome.”

“Oh my god. Goodnight, Strife!” Your lips quiver until you give in and crack a genuine smile, grabbing a pillow and whapping it softly down onto his helm. You get no resistance from the Horseman at all in retaliation. He merely lays there with his head hidden, black tufts of hair sticking out from behind your pillow as his shoulders bounce around a throaty chuckle.

Leaving him where he is, you roll over, turn off the fairy lights and plunge your bedroom into cozy, unassailable darkness.

A thick silence falls over the two of you, and the back of your neck begins to prickle, sensing without a shadow of a doubt that the Horseman's eyes are open and watching you. Sure enough, you peel your eyelids apart and find that your far wall is faintly illuminated by the golden light that emanates from his gaze.

Rolling your eyes, you resign yourself to a long night of fighting for your covers and kicking a wriggling Horseman back over onto his own side of the bed. And yet... if it's him, if it's Strife, it most likely won’t bother you in the slightest.

The alarm clock on your bedside table steadily ticks over to the three o'clock mark and you finally feel sleep crawl up behind your eyes. Just as you think you might nod off, however, the bed shakes ever so slightly, and behind you, there's the sound of shuffling sheets. It stops just as suddenly as it starts and you snort, chalking it up to a certain, restless Horseman trying to get used to the human-sized bed.

Several more minutes pass.

The shuffling starts up again, then it stops.

The same thing happens again a few more minutes later and your eyes snap open when something cool and solid nudges gently into the back of your head and you hear a quiet sniff before the whole bed shudders as the enormous Horseman laying upon it releases a monstrously low rumble of contentment.

-----

Strife leaves his helm right behind you all night, not that you'd know until the morning however, when you jerk awake to your bedroom door suddenly slamming open and Death thundering inside. He takes one look at his brother laying at your back and promptly begins a lecture that you're fairly certain will be the favoured topic of neighbourhood gossip for some time to come.

[labomi]

selfish | two (18+)

Summary: You’re a former coworker of Kento Nanami back when he was just an office worker. You accidentally run into him at a bakery many years later which gives you a second chance at getting to know the man who had always caught your eye.

Pairing: Kento Nanami x f!Reader

Words: 8.6k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content (18+ only), vaginal sex, creampie, explicit language, alcohol

Notes: I’m so happy to get this out finally ajsfdsld thank you for all the lovely comments on the first part! I’m so glad people enjoyed it enough to convince me to write more! This will definitely be the last part for this fic, but I do have plans for more Nanami things in the future. Thanks for reading! It’s also up on my ao3 if you prefer to read it there!

Index: [Part One] [Part Two]

You were moving boxes in the storage room when you heard the chime of the front door opening. With a sudden jolt, you realized you had forgotten to change the sign from “open” to “closed” before cleaning up. Cursing at yourself for the careless mistake, you hoped the customer wouldn’t be too upset that the shop was actually shut down for the night.

“I’m sorry, but we’re closed,” you politely explained, emerging from the back room. But one look at the tall figure by the door caused you to stop in your tracks. A large smile grew on your face when you saw exactly who had entered the shop.

Nanami was still in his normal work attire, but he had left behind his signature blazer and sunglasses. The top few buttons of his blue dress shirt were undone, and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. You unconsciously licked your lips.

“I can make an exception for you though,” you teased with a wink before walking around the counter to greet your boyfriend.

As you waltzed into his open arms, Nanami leaned down to give you a sweet kiss as a greeting. You sighed happily against his lips. It felt so good to be with him after a long, tiring day. His presence always made you feel safe and warm. Like nothing could ever possibly go wrong as long as you were in his embrace.

Nanami’s hands latched onto your waist as he tried to deepen the kiss, but you reluctantly pulled away with a groan of frustration.

“As much as I’d like to continue, I have to finish closing up shop,” you complained with a pout.

Nanami kissed the top of your head before releasing you. “It’s alright. I’ll wait.”

You changed the sign on the door to “closed” to prevent any unwanted guests from entering the shop. You then wiped down all the counters and properly stored the leftover ingredients. Once finished with all your tasks, you took off your apron and shoved it in your bag. 

“I’m ready!” you called out to Nanami as you started to shut off all the lights. The two of you exited the now dark shop before you locked the front door.

Whenever you had a closing shift, Nanami always came to walk you home. You found it absolutely endearing. Even though you didn’t particularly mind traveling alone at night, the walk to your apartment was always more pleasant when the sorcerer was by your side.

It was almost midnight. The normally busy streets were now devoid of both cars and other pedestrians. You loved sharing these quiet moments with Nanami. Just the two of you enjoying each other’s presence with no one else around. Nanami preferred it this way too, especially because he wasn’t a particular fan of PDA.

You were holding onto Nanami’s hand as he quietly walked beside you. “How was work today?” you asked.

Nanami was a little sensitive about discussing his job as a sorcerer with you. He always refused to share the details of his missions, but he begrudgingly answered your general questions about his workday with vague responses.

“It was fine.” He squeezed your hand lightly. “I was able to get off early.”

“Lucky you! I wish I could have finished earlier,” you complained with a huff. “Closing shift is the worst.”

“Did you eat dinner at least?”

You nodded. “I got some takeout during my break.”

“Good.” He knew you had a bad habit of skipping dinner while you were working. You found it more convenient to just eat a granola bar, especially when it was busy. But Nanami always lightly chastised you when you did this, so you had been making more of an effort to eat better.

The two of you finally arrived at your apartment. Once inside, you immediately emptied out of your bag and threw your apron into the laundry hamper. Luckily, you were off of work for the next two days.

“Kento, you’re staying the night, right?” The sorcerer was still standing in your living room.

“I have to report to work early tomorrow. I don’t want to wake you.”

You rolled your eyes at him with a sigh. Nanami was too considerate of you sometimes. “You never wake me up. Plus, I have my 9 am class tomorrow, so I have to be up early anyway.”

Nanami knew you were right. Unlike him, you slept like the dead. Frankly, he was a little jealous. The sorcerer had always been a sensitive sleeper, but he found it much easier to relax in your presence. Since the two of you had started dating, the quality of his sleep remarkably improved.

“I’ll stay.” You grinned smugly. It didn’t take much to convince him to sleep over.

“Good. I’m going to shower.”

The two of you rarely spent the night apart from one another, alternating between each other’s apartments based on the convenience for the night. Nanami had his own toiletries, pajamas, and spare clothes in your apartment, and you had your own set of things at his place as well.

As you took your shower, Nanami changed into his sleepwear and sat on your couch, reading one of many books he left at your place. Once you announced you were done using the bathroom, the sorcerer placed a bookmark and set the book back down on your coffee table. You were already in the bedroom, changing into your pajamas and packing your bag for class tomorrow, knowing you would forget something if you waited until the morning.

You looked up as Nanami entered the room after washing up. You still found it relatively amusing to see him in such casual clothes: a pair of plaid pajama pants and a thin white t-shirt. But you were glad that only you got to see him like this. The man was the perfect example of prim and proper in public, but at home, he found it more appropriate to dress comfortably. And you thought he looked absolutely adorable. Especially with his unstyled hair.

After the lights were turned off, the two you snuggled in bed together and kissed each other goodnight. Within seconds, you were already fast asleep, exhausted from the long day. Nanami listened to the sound of your deep, even breathing. He felt completely at ease with you safely pressed against him. It wasn’t long before he followed you into a deep sleep.

---

Nanami’s life was simple before he met you at that bakery.

He went to work, came back home, read a book, had a glass of scotch, and made some dinner. The cycle repeated nearly every day, but Nanami didn’t particularly mind. He liked having a simple, predictable routine.

Once you reentered his life, things were a bit different. A bit more exciting. He wasn’t complaining.

Instead of only buying groceries for himself, he made sure to also buy your favorite snacks. Instead of making a reservation for one at a restaurant, he asked for a table for two. Instead of placing one set of utensils on his dining table, he always put down two.

Jujutsu sorcerers were a lonely group of people. They often felt isolated from the general population, born with unique abilities that allowed them to see things that most other people could not. 

It was a difficult path. Sorcerers faced a life full of constant battle and death. And the only people who could relate to their hardships were the same people dying by their sides. 

For this reason, sorcerers rarely interacted with people outside the jujutsu community. They saw themselves as an outsider to the rest of society. A society that was blissfully unaware of the existence of curses.

But it was different with you.

When Nanami was with you, he didn’t feel like an outsider or a jujutsu sorcerer.

He felt like a normal man.

The activities that Nanami once did alone were now the same activities he enjoyed doing together with you. He took you to his favorite bakery to pick out fresh bread every week. He escorted you to well-reviewed restaurants he had been meaning to visit. He even brought you to his beloved local bookstore, the one place he had been visiting for years as a regular customer.

The first time he took you into the shop, the owner couldn’t help but notice the way your hands were intertwined with one another. As you browsed through the shelves on your own, the old woman suggestively waggled her eyebrows at Nanami. 

“So you got a lady now?” she asked curiously.

Nanami thought it was a little odd that she was somehow keeping tabs on his relationship status, but he nodded anyway. 

“Ah! She’s a pretty one!”

You suddenly reappeared with a tall stack of secondhand books in your arms. “Kento! This place is amazing! I’m going to buy all of these!”

“Oh, definitely a keeper too,” the owner commented.

Nanami found himself agreeing. 

He didn’t know if you could be any more perfect.

Nanami had always enjoyed cooking. He loved the process of selecting a recipe, buying fresh ingredients, and turning them into a delicious, home-cooked meal. But he learned that enjoyed cooking even more when it was for you.

The sorcerer was appalled to hear that you hardly ever cooked for yourself. He had surveyed the state of your freezer in utter disgust. It was crammed full of boxes of microwavable meals and several pints of ice cream. You defended yourself vehemently, claiming that you were too busy to cook between classes, work, and study sessions. The microwave was the easiest and quickest appliance to use after all. And sometimes you just wanted ice cream for dinner.

Nanami took it upon himself to make sure you were eating proper, nutritious meals. In his eyes, it was less of a chore and more of a hobby. He enjoyed learning what you liked. He looked forward to hearing your thoughts about a recipe. He loved the way your eyes lit up whenever he presented a new dish. The sorcerer had even subscribed to food magazines and bought some international cookbooks just to try out with you.

Every morning, Nanami packed you a healthy lunch to ensure you wouldn’t just eat a granola bar for the entire day. And whenever the two of you both had a free night, you always ate dinner together.

In particular, Friday nights had become a weekly tradition between the two of you. Nanami would prepare a special dinner with some fancy wine. The two of you would even dress up a little to celebrate the start of the weekend.

You knocked on Nanami’s door one Friday night, wearing a simple yet elegant dress with just a hint of makeup on your face. The door opened and you were instantly greeted by the mouth-watering smell of whatever the man was cooking in the kitchen. But the sight of Nanami was even more distracting. He was wearing an apron over a tight black button-up shirt with gray slacks. You bit your lip softly, eyeing him appreciatively.

While you enjoyed going out to eat in a restaurant, there was something more intimate about Nanami cooking dinner at home just for the two of you. Plus, the atmosphere was always lovely. His apartment was clean, spacious, and well-decorated. Whatever jujutsu sorcerers got paid, it was clearly more than enough.

“It smells good,” you hummed. “What are you making tonight?”

The sorcerer never revealed dinner to you in advance. For some reason, he always wanted to keep it a surprise.

“Homemade linguine with shrimp. I also got some fresh bread to go along with it.”

Your eyes lit up instantly. “Oooh, sounds delicious! I didn’t know you knew how to make pasta from scratch.”

Everything that Nanami prepared was always amazing. There was never a meal he made that you didn’t enjoy. The first time he cooked you dinner, you almost wanted to propose to him right then and there. A man with those looks and proper culinary skills? You felt like the luckiest person in the world.

You always offered to help Nanami while he was cooking but he would gently shoo you out of the kitchen every time. You weren’t sure if it was because he wanted you to sit back and relax or if it was because he thought you would mess things up. 

It was probably the latter. 

(Most definitely the latter.)

Due to your clear lack of culinary expertise, you were in charge of cleaning all the pots and pans and loading the dishwasher. You couldn’t complain.

Your post-dinner activities were always the same. The two of you would play a movie and then immediately proceed to ignore it for the rest of the night.

Tonight was no different. 

You moaned loudly, writhing about on the couch. “Kento, fuck.”

Your dress was hiked up around your hips, underwear already discarded with Nanami’s face in between your legs. You were already shuddering through your second orgasm of the night with Nanami eagerly lapping up your fluids. His strong arms locked your thrashing legs into place as you gripped the edges of the couch, riding out the last few waves of intense pleasure.

You looked up at him through half-lidded eyes as he pulled back, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt. “Ready?” he asked in a deep voice. His pupils were blown open in lust. You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. The man gathered you in his arms and headed to the bedroom.

He carefully set you down on unsteady legs as he pulled the zipper down your dress until the garment fell and landed in a heap on the ground. To his pleasant surprise, you were already braless. You turned around and started to slowly unbutton Nanami’s dress shirt, taking your sweet time. His gaze raked over your entire figure, causing your fingers to fumble as you flushed from the intensity of his stare. Eventually, Nanami had enough. He threw you on the bed and quickly shed the rest of his clothes on his own.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, climbing on the bed and hovering over you. His large, calloused hands roamed all over your bare skin while his mouth focused on sucking at the sensitive spots on your neck.

You relished the feel of Nanami’s touch all over you, but one glance at his painfully hard cock had your cunt begging to be filled.

“Kento,” you whined. “I can’t wait. Fuck me, please. I need you inside me, right now.”

Nanami sheathed his entire length inside you with just one sharp thrust. He proceeded to fuck you hard and fast, just the way you liked. Each snap of his hips left you a complete mess underneath him, moaning his name over and over again. It was just barely audible over the lewd, wet sounds of your desperate cunt squeezing around him.

Nanami grabbed one of your hands and interlocked his fingers with yours. A sweet gesture as he roughly pounded you into the bed. The two of you were so worked up that it didn’t take long for the both of you to quickly become undone. You arched your back and tightly gripped Nanami’s hand as uncontrollable pleasure coursed throughout your entire body. Nanami groaned your name as he sloppily thrust into you several more times before flooding your cunt with his cum. 

When he finally pulled out, Nanami was satisfied to see his seed trickling out of you.

“Kento,” you called his name, suddenly feeling shy under his intense gaze.

The man adjusted his position so he was now laying next to you. He kissed you sweetly and whispered praises of you as you giggled breathlessly.

“Hmm, I don’t want to get out of bed and clean up yet.”

“Then don’t,” Nanami said with a devious look in his eyes. 

It was then that you felt his length hardening once again against your thigh. He suddenly pulled you on top of him as he laid on his back. The movement caused your sensitive folds to inadvertently rub against his dick as you straddled his hips. You gasped at the feeling, clutching at his chest to prop you up. 

“I’m not done with you yet,” he growled.

---

It was a slow afternoon when a man entered the boba shop. He wore an all-black outfit and a matching beanie. Tufts of his disheveled brown hair stuck out from underneath.

“Hello!” You greeted him inside as his eyes flickered around the place nervously before walking up to the cash register. 

“What would you like to order?”

Instead of browsing the menu, the man’s gaze was focused elsewhere. Specifically, your chest. You stood there uncomfortably, wondering if you should say something or just ignore him. But then you realized the man wasn’t being a creep. He was reading your name tag.

The man said your name out loud hesitantly.

“Yes? That’s me.” You tilted your head slightly, trying to figure out if you knew this man. Nothing about his appearance rang a bell. You then started to worry about whether or not you were supposed to recognize him. Was he a current classmate? A former coworker?

The man’s eyes instantly lit up. “You’re Nanami’s girlfriend, right?”

Your eyes widened in surprise.

Kento? He knows Kento?

“Oh, um, yes I am.” The question had taken you off guard. You weren’t expecting a random customer to mention your boyfriend’s name.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” The man smiled brightly at you, looking extremely excited. “Gojo always mentions how pretty and kind you are, so I couldn’t resist visiting when he told me you worked here.”

Gojo?

If this man knew both Nanami and Gojo, did this mean he was also a sorcerer? 

The stranger had piqued your curiosity, and you just couldn’t give up the opportunity to sit down and chat with him. Luckily, it was a slow day and you convinced your coworker to allow you to take your break early. After preparing two drinks, you slipped into a booth in the back of the shop with the man taking a seat across from you.

“I’m Ino Takuma.” The man introduced himself to you.

“So, if you know Gojo and Kento, does that mean you’re a sorcerer?” You kept your voice hushed while asking, just in case your nosy coworkers were trying to listen in on your conversation.

Ino nodded. “Yep, I am.”

You couldn’t help but feel excited to meet another one of Nanami’s colleagues. He purposely tried to shield you from the jujutsu world, but it only made you more curious. Plus, you wanted to know more about what Nanami was like as a sorcerer. He was always so gentle and sweet with you. Well, except for in bed. But it was sometimes hard to imagine that he exorcised curses for a living.

“Do you know Kento well?” you asked curiously.

Ino nodded eagerly. “Yes! I worked with him on a mission once and since then, I’ve really respected him.” He blushed a little, rubbing the back of his head. “Nanami is my role model. I don’t see myself as a particularly smart guy, so whenever I don’t know what to do, I always ask myself what would Nanami do?”

Ino’s words were full of sincerity. In some ways, he reminded you of Itadori. Both of the boys seemed to admire Nanami in a way you would never understand as a non-sorcerer. But it made your heart full knowing that Nanami was a trusted mentor in his workplace.

“Does that mean Kento is strong?” You were a little hesitant to ask the question. As an outsider to the jujutsu world, you didn’t know what made a sorcerer strong. But if another sorcerer told you that Nanami was indeed powerful, you would feel comforted. You knew his job was dangerous, so you obviously worried about his safety, but you tried your best not to show it around him.

“Nanami is super strong!” Ino exclaimed, arms flailing around to emphasize his point. “He’s a Grade 1 sorcerer! That’s practically the best you can be!”

You bit back a sigh of relief. “That’s good to know. Thank you, Ino.”

The two of you continued to chat for the rest of your break, getting to know each other better. Ino even successfully squeezed out of you Nanami’s favorite bakery and favorite bookstore. He claimed he wanted to surprise the man with a gift he would actually appreciate. You encouraged him with a warm smile.

“Thank you for the tea and the conversation,” Ino said, sliding out of the booth. He hovered around you with a light blush dusting his cheeks again. “Um, next time you see Nanami, can you maybe ask him about my recommendation to a Grade 1 sorcerer? If you don’t mind that is!”

“Sure! Will do. It was great meeting you. Thank you for helping to keep Kento safe!”

Ino’s eyes widened at your words. He puffed out his chest proudly. “Of course!”

You waved at him as he exited the shop with a loud farewell.

After your shift, you had returned to your apartment to change and grab some things to spend the night at Nanami’s apartment. When you arrived at his place, the man was already setting the table for dinner. You hugged him from behind with a happy hum as finished his task. Nanami gently removed your arms from around him before turning around and greeting you with a kiss.

“Welcome home.”

“Dinner smells good,” you commented happily. “I’m starving!”

Nanami chuckled lightly. He pulled out a chair for you. “Sit down and I’ll serve you.”

The two of you sat at the table together, plates filled with delicious curry rice.

“How was your day today?” Nanami asked once you both started eating.

“Oh!” You swallowed your bite. “I actually met a coworker of yours. He came to the shop.”

“Who?” Nanami looked rather unhappy, gripping the spoon in his hand forcefully.

“Ino Takuma.”

Nanami sighed, rubbing his forehead in irritation. “I’m sorry. I’ll make sure to tell him to stay away from you. I have no idea how he found your workplace in the first place.”

“Huh? What? No, it’s fine! Ino was very kind and sweet. I enjoyed chatting with him. Also, don’t be too mad at him, Gojo was the one who told him about me.”

Nanami clenched his fist. The next time he saw that white-haired idiot, he was going to kill him.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “Kento, why are you so against me meeting other jujutsu sorcerers? These people are important to you, no? I want to meet them.”

Nanami refused to meet your gaze. He still wasn’t comfortable with the thought of you interacting with the jujutsu world, sorcerers included. “I’m just trying to prote—”

“Protect me, I know.” You let out a deep sigh. “But I don’t want you to hide your life as a sorcerer from me. It’s a big part of your identity, and I want to learn more about jujutsu so I can understand you, Gojo, Itadori, and everyone better.” You lowered your voice slightly. “I care about you all, you know.”

Nanami reached out across to the table to gently hold your hand. “I know,” he admitted quietly. “I’m sorry.” He knew that shielding you from the jujutsu world as much as possible wasn’t doing you or him any favors. But Nanami didn’t know what else to do. He never imagined he would be dating someone while working as a sorcerer. And he especially never imagined he would be dating a non-sorcerer. 

Relationships between sorcerers and non-sorcerers rarely worked out, so Nanami tried to restrict your access to the jujutsu world as much as possible. He refused to talk about his missions with you. He tried to limit the presence of other sorcerers around you. He did this to protect you, but maybe he was doing it to protect himself instead. He didn’t want to lose you or scare you away.

“I do want to share my life as a sorcerer with you.” Nanami was struggling to find the right words. “But it’s difficult for me.” He had always envisioned his personal life and his work life as two separate spheres, but you were beginning to blur those lines. “I promise I’ll do better.”

You smiled softly, appreciating his efforts. “Well, we can take it slow.”

“Thank you.”

You were cleaning the dishes in the sink when Nanami wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled his face in your neck. Both of you felt so much lighter after the discussion during dinner.

“Oh!” A sudden realization popped into your mind. “I forgot to mention. Ino asked me to tell you not to forget his Grade 1 sorcerer recommendation.”

Nanami groaned in the crook of your neck. “Of course he did, that impatient kid.”

“What’s a recommendation? Are you not going to do it?”

He sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“Kento,” you whined.

“Alright. I’ll explain it to you after you’re done.”

---

You had just finished class when a text popped up on your phone. It was from Gojo.

Gojo: Hey! Do you want to go to dinner with me, Yuji, and Nanami tonight????

Dinner? You felt a tinge of excitement.

You: Sure! I’m free!

You didn’t know what the occasion was for, but you were grateful for the invite. Gojo often stopped by at your workplace, occasionally accompanied by Itadori, to greet you and grab a sweet drink. But you unfortunately never had the time to properly sit down with him and catch up. 

Out of all sorcerers you had met so far, Gojo was the most mysterious. After all, what sort of man wore a blindfold in public? And now that you thought about it, how did he always seem to know when you were working? Especially since your work schedule differed from week to week...

Weird.

Gojo: Great! I’ll send you the time and place later~

You: Thanks! See you then!

You were about to text Nanami and tell him you were looking forward to dinner when one of your classmates called your name.

“Yes?” you asked, looking away from your phone.

“Want to join our study group? We’re heading to the library right now!”

“Yeah, sure! Coming!”

It was only after you left the library several hours later that you realized you had forgotten to text Nanami. But you figured it wasn’t a big deal since you would soon see him at dinner. 

Nanami looked at his watch impatiently. It was already past 5 pm. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be back in his apartment, prepping dinner for you. “What are we doing here, Gojo? I need to get home.”

The white-haired calmly rested his arms behind his head with a suspicious smirk on his face. “Relax, Nanami. We’re waiting for a surprise.”

Itadori perked up beside him, looking up at his sensei with wide eyes. “A surprise?! What kind of surprise?”

Gojo chuckled. “The best kind.”

Nanami let out an exasperated sigh. He removed his sunglasses and put them in his pocket. The three sorcerers were standing around in the middle of a busy street filled with pedestrians. “I don’t have time for such frivolities, Gojo. Excuse me, but I’m leavi—”

“Wait!” Gojo exclaimed. He waved at someone in the crowd. “She’s here!”

“She?” Nanami repeated, trying to follow Gojo’s line of sight.

It was easy to spot Gojo, even amongst the giant, moving crowd. The tall man towered over everyone else and his bright, white hair easily stood out in the background. You could see him waving his hand at you, so you waved back.

Squeezing your way through the crowd, you joined up with the three sorcerers with an excited grin. “Hi!”

“Say hello to the surprise,” Gojo announced, waltzing over to your side and wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

Itadori looked thrilled to see you, but as your eyes shifted to Nanami, you immediately sensed something was wrong.

“Gojo, you did tell Kento you invited me, right?” you asked cautiously, looking up at the tall man.

The sorcerer hummed to himself for several seconds before responding. “Nope!”

You blanched. Uh oh. You should have texted him.

Nanami didn’t look too visibly upset, but he was pinching the bridge of his nose with a frown. When would that idiot stop meddling with his personal life behind his back?

“Na-na-mi,” Gojo said in a singsong voice. “Are you excited to see your stunning, beautiful, and gorgeous girlfriend? Shouldn’t you be thanking me for bringing her here?” The white-haired sorcerer pulled you even closer to him. He didn’t miss the way Nanami’s eyes instantly narrowed at him.

Nanami grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of Gojo’s grasp until you were comfortably nestled against his side. He couldn’t stand seeing that man's hands on you. “Don’t let him touch you. His idiocy is contagious.”

You giggled at the comment. Gojo let out a satisfied hum, watching the two of you together. “Alright, lovebirds!” He clapped his hands together. “It’s time for dinner!”

“Dinner?!” Itadori gasped. He started salivating at the thought of food. “Gojo-sensei, what are we eating?”

The tall sorcerer patted the top of Itadori’s head affectionately. “To celebrate Yuji’s last night as a dead man, we’re going to a steakhouse!”

The kid loudly cheered as you looked to Nanami for clarification.

“Itadori is being introduced back to the school tomorrow.”

“Oh, I see.” Gojo had told you before that the Itadori was supposed to be dead and not to mention his existence to anyone. You didn’t understand why and you didn’t ask, but you kept your promise. The young sorcerer bounced around excitedly before hugging Gojo. You couldn’t help but smile at the adorable interaction.

“Let’s hurry up, so we’re not late for our reservation.” Gojo started walking quickly through the crowd with Itadori right by his side. You and Nanami were a little ways behind them as you found it hard to keep up with Gojo’s brisk pace. He pressed a warm hand against your lower back, guiding you through the large crowd.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that Gojo invited me,” you apologized. Even though Nanami said he would be more open about the jujutsu world, you knew he was still sensitive about you spending too much time around other sorcerers. “I was going to text you but then some classmates asked me if I wanted to study with them, and I said yes because you know I need all the help I can get, and then I completely forgot to message you and by the time I left the library and actually remembered I didn’t text you, I thought it wasn’t worth it since I was going to be seeing you at dinner soon, and I, uh, yeah.” You winced, realizing you were rambling yet again.

“It’s not your fault,” he assured you. “That idiot always has something up this sleeve.”

“You’re not upset, right?”

He rubbed his hand up and down your back. It sent a tingle up your spine. “I'm not upset," Nanami replied honestly. "I’m glad you’re here.”

You slid into the booth at the steakhouse. Itadori was already seated across from you. Gojo was about to take the open seat next to you, but Nanami grabbed the back of the man’s uniform and shoved him away. 

“Hey!” the sorcerer loudly complained.

Nanami sat down next to you, completely unbothered. “Sit with your student, Gojo.” You tried to stifle your laughter, looking at the two men in complete amusement. 

Gojo slid into the booth next to Itadori with a carefree grin. Teasing Nanami was too easy when you were around.

The four of you had a pleasant dinner together. Your only complaint was the way Nanami rubbed your thigh with his left hand the entire time while waiting for the food to arrive. You were wearing a rather short dress which rode up as you sat down, giving him perfect access to your bare skin. It was incredibly distracting. 

You were a little surprised that Nanami was doing something like this in public, even though it was mostly hidden from sight. Part of you wondered if it was because Gojo was present. Nanami always acted a little differently with you when the other sorcerer was around.

For some reason, you couldn't shake the feeling that Gojo knew exactly what was happening underneath the table. Even with his blindfold on, you could tell that the sorcerer was looking right at you with a knowing smile on his face. You felt a little flustered, but Nanami seemed completely unperturbed. Perhaps it was just your imagination.

After dinner, you followed Itadori out the front door of the restaurant.

“Ah! I’m so stuffed!” he commented with a satisfied hum, rubbing his belly.

“I hope you still have room for some dessert.”

The two of you turned back to look at Gojo. Nanami was only a couple of steps behind him.

“Oh! Dessert? Don’t worry, Sensei. I always got room for that!” He gave Gojo a thumbs up.

“Great! I happen to know an amazing ice cream shop around the corner!” You blinked in surprise as the white-haired sorcerer wrapped a long arm around your shoulder again and started ushering you towards the destination. “Let’s get going!”

What you didn’t see was the way Gojo turned his head back to send a smug look to his dear friend. Nanami glared at the sorcerer but didn’t intervene. The walk to the shop was short, and you didn’t appear to be uncomfortable, happily chatting away with Itadori about the best and worst ice cream flavors.

It wasn’t until you all arrived at the shop that you pulled away from Gojo and latched onto his arm instead. “What are you going to get?”

“Hmm. I don’t know. What do you want?” he asked.

You looked at the menu, eyes squinting in concentration. “I’m stuck between Peanut Butter Cup and Mint Chocolate Chip.”

“Pick one and I’ll get the other. We can share.”

Your eyes widened. “Really? You don’t have to.” 

Nanami smiled softly at that adorable look on your face. He gently tucked a hair away from your face. “I like both of those flavors anyway.”

Itadori and Gojo silently exchanged looks with one another. They were both internally squealing at the cute exchange they just witnessed between the two of you. It was rare to see such a soft side of Nanami in public. 

“Nanami,” Gojo cooed, a little jealous. “Do you want to share some ice cream with me too?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Huh? Why not?” the sorcerer whined.

“Because you’ll get the most sickening ice cream flavor of them all.”

Nanami was absolutely correct.

Gojo ordered a large cone of triple chocolate ice cream with chunks of brownies, cookie dough, and fudge mixed with swirls of caramel and marshmallow. 

It was a complete abomination.

The four of you sat outside, enjoying the nice weather while indulging in ice cream. You thought it was cute how Itadori’s strawberry cone almost matched the color of his hair. Once everyone finished their dessert, the group finally split up. You waved goodbye at Gojo and Itadori. “Good luck tomorrow, Itadori!” He had shared with you earlier about how excited (and a little nervous) he was to see his classmates again. You hoped the reunion went well.

It was a quiet walk home with Nanami. The two you held hands, enjoying the calm atmosphere now that Gojo and Itadori were both gone. 

As soon as you entered Nanami’s apartment, you took off your shoes as Nanami removed his blazer. “I had a good time tonight,” you mused. “Itadori is such a sweetie, and Gojo—”

Your words were cut off with a gasp as Nanami roughly pushed you against the wall. He put a knee in between your legs, and one of his hands began to crawl up your exposed thigh. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, shivering as you felt the pleasant tingle of his touch. He gave you such a heated look that it left you swallowing nervously.

“I don’t want to hear another man’s name out of your mouth tonight,” he growled in your ear.

You looked back at him, both half-amused and half-aroused. “I’m only yours, Kento.”

“Good.”

Nanami whisked you away to the bedroom as you laughed breathily in his arms.

---

Nanami surveyed the numerous body bags in the morgue of Tokyo Jujutsu High.

“Three Grade 2 sorcerers. One Semi-Grade 1 sorcerer. Five Auxiliary Managers. Two storage attendants,” Ijichi listed off the number of casualties. 

Nanami clenched his fists. “This is the same curse that Itadori and I fought together, correct?”

“Yes,” the manager replied, pushing up his glasses. “Shoko confirmed that the bodies were all disfigured in the same manner.”

The sorcerer grit his teeth in frustration. He blamed himself. If he had been able to exorcise the curse back then, these innocent lives might have been spared. After all, it was his fault that Mahito had escaped. He hadn’t been quick enough.

“Gojo, can I have a private word with you?”

The white-haired sorcerer had been leaning against the wall the entire time, quiet for once.

“I’ll take my leave,” Ijichi announced, exiting the room. 

Nanami broke the silence first.

“If anything happens to me, promise me you’ll take care of her.”

Gojo didn’t respond right away. “Why are you telling me this?” he asked in an unusually serious tone.

“Mahito is still around. My attacks are not effective against him. He seems to have a special interest in me, so there is a high probability we will run into each other again. And I may not be lucky enough to have Itadori by my side then.”

“No.”

“What?!” Nanami whipped around to face the sorcerer. The fury in his eyes was hidden by his sunglasses, but Gojo could sense the anger all the same.

“No, I won’t promise to take care of her.”

“Gojo, you—”

“Stop acting like you’re trying to die.” Nanami stiffened. “Take care of her yourself. You’re strong.”

A tense silence hung in the air. 

Nanami let out a deep breath.

“Thank you, Gojo.”

---

The next day, Nanami had just finished a mission when the Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event ended. He came back to campus to see all the students in baseball uniforms. Wasn’t the second day dedicated to individual battles?

“Oh, Nanami!” Gojo called out, jogging over to him. He had forgone his blindfold for a pair of sunglasses and wore a simple button-up shirt and pants instead of his normal uniform. “Too bad you missed the game! We won!”

“The game?”

Gojo nodded with a devious look on his face. “Yup! This year, the Goodwill Event winner was determined by a baseball game!” He laughed victoriously. 

Nanami shook his head. Only Gojo could successfully pull off a stunt like this in front of both school principals.

“By the way, we’re going out for some drinks tonight. Even Utahime and Mei Mei said they would join. You should come. And bring your girlfriend too.”

“Absolutely not.” There was potentially a traitor among the group, and Gojo thought it was a good idea to bring you into the mix? There was no way he was going to let that happen.

“Too bad. I already invited her.”

“You what?! ” Nanami fumed.

“You mad or something?”

Nanami thought about trying to strangle the white-haired sorcerer when his phone chimed. It was a message from you.

You: Gojo invited me out with you guys tonight. Is that ok?

“Is that her?” Gojo asked, trying to peek at Nanami’s phone screen.

“None of your business.”

He began typing his response.

“I know you won’t say no to her,” Gojo hummed. The other sorcerer ignored him.

Nanami: Yeah, it’s fine. I’ll pick you up and we’ll go together?

You: I have to stay a lil late at work :( someone called out sick so I’ll just meet you all there

Nanami: You sure? I don’t mind waiting for you.

You: Yup it’s fine! See you tonight!

Nanami locked his phone and put it away.

“So?” Gojo asked, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“She’s coming,” Nanami grumbled.

The white-haired sorcerer clapped his hands together excitedly like he hadn’t planned for this to happen from the start. “Great! I’m looking forward to tonight!”

Nanami glared at him in response.

“What? You still mad?”

Nanami tapped his fingers absentmindedly on the table. You still hadn’t arrived yet. Utahime was somehow already drunk, loudly laughing at something Shoko said. Gojo was bothering Ijichi who was sputtering nervously, and Mei Mei was silently sipping on a cocktail she forced Gojo to buy for her. Nanami bit back a sigh. He missed you.

“I heard from a little birdie that you have a girlfriend now, Nanami. And a non-sorcerer one at that,” Mei Mei commented with a sly smile. 

Nanami looked at Gojo, knowing exactly who this “little birdie” was, but the white-haired sorcerer turned away with a whistle.

“A girlfriend?!” Utahime gasped. She grabbed Shoko’s shoulders and violently shook her. “Shoko, did you know about this?”

The doctor was completely unfazed. “Yeah. We’ve all met her before except you and Mei Mei.”

Utahime covered her face and made dramatic sobbing noises. “Out of all of us, it’s Nanami who’s dating first?!”

Nanami’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance. What was that supposed to mean?

“Shoko!” Utahime whined. “Will you marry me if I’m still single at 40?”

“I’ll do it!” Gojo quipped. 

The Kyoto sorcerer made a disgusted gagging noise. “Like hell I would ever agree to that!”

“I’ll do it for money. How much would you pay me?” Mei Mei asked.

“You guys are all terrible!” Utahime exclaimed. She latched onto Shoko. “Only Shoko is nice to me!”

“But I never said I would marry you,” the doctor pointed out calmly.

The entire table burst into laughter. Nanami quietly sipped on his beer. 

“Sorry, I’m late!” Your bright voice finally caught the man’s attention. You waved at the group, heading over. Nanami got up to greet you but a certain white-haired man beat him to it.

Gojo called your name happily, wrapping you into an unexpected bear hug.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Nanami commanded, immediately dragging the sorcerer off of you and kicking him back into his seat. 

You chuckled lightly before hugging Nanami too. Hesitating for a little bit, you decided to kiss the man on the cheek. You knew he didn’t like PDA, but you still wanted to greet him affectionately.

“I think you missed,” Gojo pointed out. 

Flushing in embarrassment at Gojo's comment, you were about to pull away and take a seat, but Nanami suddenly leaned down and kissed you on the lips deeply. It was so unexpected that you couldn’t suppress the noise of surprise that left your throat. You could vaguely hear the cheering and wolf whistles from the table which only made you blush more. Nanami finally pulled away, leaving you breathless.

“Now that’s more like it,” Gojo commented with a slow clap.

Ijichi covered his face with his hands, unable to believe he witnessed Nanami in such a manner. Utahime’s jaw dropped open in complete shock. Shoko was busy rummaging through her purse for a cigarette. Mei Mei raised her eyebrows, impressed at Nanami’s boldness.

Gojo gestured to you. “Well, say hi to Nanami’s girlfriend, everyone!”

You shyly waved at them. “Hi,” you squeaked, still embarrassed.

Even though you had the day off tomorrow, you hadn’t planned on drinking a lot during the night. But Utahime challenged all the girls to a drink-off and you couldn’t resist participating to get to know the other women better. Mei Mei only agreed to partake once Gojo confirmed he would cover everyone’s tabs.

It turned out that both Shoko and Mei Mei had incredibly high tolerances. You and Utahime on the other hand, not so much.

You groaned, struggling to climb the steps up to Nanami’s apartment. After watching your pitiful attempt, the sorcerer lifted you in his arms and carried you the rest of the way.

“Ugh, I’m sorry,” you mumbled. You felt bad that Nanami had to take care of you, especially because you had not intended to get this drunk.

“Don’t apologize.” He carefully set you down on your feet as he opened his apartment door. Nanami helped you wash up and get changed before joining you in bed once he was done with his own nightly routine.

You were practically laying on top of Nanami while rubbing a hand down his firm chest. When your hand started to wander lower, he gently took it and brought it up to his face to kiss it. “We should go to sleep.”

You pouted a little but mumbled in agreement, rolling off the man and nestling into his side instead. “Good night, Kento. Love you.”

Nanami stiffened, suddenly wide awake after hearing your words. He was filled with such an indescribable emotion that it left him completely speechless. Nanami was worried you would be upset that he hadn’t responded right away, but he was instead greeted by the familiar sound of your slow, deep breaths. You were asleep.

He let out a sigh. Nanami wondered if you would remember your confession in the morning, but he doubted it. Your memory was always spotty when you got this drunk.

Nanami kissed your head, stroking your hair gently. 

“I love you too.”

---

“Is something wrong?”

Nanami didn’t even look up from the newspaper he was reading to address the white-haired sorcerer. “Everything is fine. Why are you asking?”

Gojo hummed, tapping a finger on his chin in thought. His sharp eyes took in his friend’s appearance. “You seem a bit tense. You didn’t have a fight with the girlfriend, did you?”

“Nothing of that sort happened. And even if it did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“So you did have a fight!” Gojo exclaimed.

Nanami turned the page. “No, we did not. And just to stop your incessant bothering, I will tell you that she has a very important exam today, so I have not seen her in several days to allow her to focus on studying.”

“Ahh, I see!” It made perfect sense to Gojo now. “You look so tense because you’re sexually frustrated!”

Nanami crumbled the edges of the newspaper in his hands. “I refuse to talk about such things with you.”

“Oh, but you’re not denying it,” Gojo pointed you. “Nanami, there is absolutely no shame in talking about our sex lives. We should be more open about sex to destigmatize it. For example, last week I—”

“I’m leaving,” Nanami suddenly announced. He folded up his newspaper and exited the lounge. He’d rather fight four Grade One curses single-handedly than hear about that man’s sex life.

---

Nanami couldn’t keep his hands off of you. As soon as you walked through his apartment door, cheering that you were finally done with your exam, he immediately pulled you into his arms and kissed you wantonly.

Your absence in the past few days was so striking. He had trouble sleeping and didn’t even feel like cooking without your familiar presence around him. It was so good to have you back again.

You giggled at his eagerness, looking up at him with a knowing smile. “Did you miss me?”

Nanami was already ushering you towards his bedroom.

“Let me show you just how much I missed you.”

The next morning, you stumbled out of Nanami’s bedroom with a loud yawn. You had no class or work for the day, so you were looking forward to lounging around Nanami’s apartment as a reward for suffering through your exam yesterday.

You perked up when you smelled something good in the air. Popping your head in the kitchen, you saw Nanami flipping pancakes.

“Good morning!” You eyed the pancakes with a hungry look.

“Good morning. Breakfast will be ready in a few,” Nanami replied, adding more batter into the pan.

“Okay!” You left to quickly get dressed for the day.

By the time you returned, Nanami was setting down a plate on the table piled high with fluffy blueberry pancakes.

“Thank you for breakfast!” you said with a wide grin, snatching two pancakes and putting them on your own plate.

After eating, Nanami looked at this watch with a small frown. “I have to go.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll clean everything up.” You headed over to the door where Nanami was slipping into his shoes and putting on his blazer. Before he opened the door, you stepped in to fix his tie that was just slightly askew.

“I’ll see you tonight, handsome?”

“Of course.”

For you, Nanami would do everything in his power to make sure he finished work on time and returned home as soon as possible. He used to look forward to the end of the workday because he hated working. But now he looked forward to the end of the workday because he got to see you.

As a jujutsu sorcerer, Nanami knew he couldn’t take anything for granted. Any amount of time spent with you was absolutely precious to him. So he wanted to make sure to maximize that amount of time as much as possible.

Nanami leaned down to kiss you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You blinked.

Huh?

Did he say…?

Wait, did you say....?

Your eyes widened in realization as you covered your mouth in shock.

Nanami said he loved you.

And you immediately said you loved him back.

The words had slipped right out of your mouth without you even realizing it.

“Enjoy your day off,” Nanami said nonchalantly before exiting the apartment. The door gently closed shut behind him.

When Nanami arrived at work, a certain white-haired sorcerer knew something was different about his friend.

“What happened with her?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Gojo grabbed his phone and dialed a number quickly. “You owe me money, Mei Mei! I won the bet! I told you they would confess their love to each other before the end of the month.”

Nanami clenched his jaw.

Bet?

The sorcerer menacingly stood over Gojo, sword withdrawn and cursed energy swirling around him angrily. “What bet?”

Gojo removed the phone from his ear. Mei Mei could be heard angrily yelling from the device, clearly upset about losing a large sum of money. “Now, now, Nanami. You’re only this angry at me because I’m correct, right? You two finally confessed to each other?”

Nanami took his tie off and wrapped it around his hand.

The white-haired sorcerer threw his head back with a howl of laughter. “I’ll take that as a yes! But before you try to kill me, just know that a) it’s impossible and b) I only agreed to this bet to prove Mei Mei wrong. She didn’t think you had it in you to confess so soon! But I always had faith in you because I’m such a good friend!”

Nanami took a menacing step forward towards Gojo, but the sound of his phone chiming stopped his advance. Gojo took that as a sign to escape with his loud laughter still echoing in the hallways.

With a sigh, Nanami unlocked his phone to read the text from you.

You: Wanted to say I love you ♡

You: Just in case you didn’t hear earlier

You: But I’m pretty sure you did...

You: I just want to be sure

You: Anyways I’ll see you later :) 

You: Miss you already

You: I'll try not to destroy your apartment

You: Ok sorry I'll stop bothering you now

He couldn’t wait to come home to you tonight.

[spxllcxstxr]

Ask the World to Dance • J.P

(GIF not mine)

Request: hi! it’s like 1am where I live rn and I had got this idea - so many times when I can’t sleep I put music on and I basically have a party on my own. can you write an imagine or something where the reader can’t sleep and (she’s dating James but isn’t it like dating all of the marauders????) she goes quietly to their dormitory and she sees that they are just chilling, talking so they basically end up dancing etc — anon

Summary: You can’t sleep, so to burn off all your energy, you have a dance party with your boyfriend and your friends in their dorm

Warnings: unable to sleep, mention of a broken nose and kinda mention of a fight? Heavily implied Gryffindor!reader since they sleep in the same dorm as Lily and the girls, underage smoking, Wolfstar (does that need a warning?)

Word Count: 1k

A.N: this is my first piece in a long time!! So it might be.......iffy? I guess I’m still trying to get back into the swing of things. I still like it, don’t worry, it’s not complete trash lmao. Hope you enjoy!

Title: Billy Idol - Dancing with Myself

****

The alarm clock on your nightstand tells you that it’s midnight, the harsh red numbers blazing in the darkness of your dorm.

But despite the time, you’re wide awake, your body refusing to stay still enough to drift off.

Marlene snores and shuffles underneath the covers to your right while Lily mumbles some incoherent nonsense on your left.

Sighing, you shift around your bed, contorting your limbs every which way in an attempt to get comfortable.

“Oh, fuck this.” You huff in frustration, giving up and sitting up on the mattress.

Obviously, you weren’t going to sleep anytime soon, at least, in your own bed. Maybe James would be able to help you.

You creep across the floorboards, carefully tiptoeing around the loose ones, knowing full well that not only is Dorcas a light sleeper, but also someone who takes her beauty sleep seriously.

You’re able to walk normally up the steps of the boys dormitories, with the amount of chatter echoing through the stone tower only confirming your suspicions that no one was asleep. It seems that this is the place to be on a Wednesday night.

The dark oak door at the very top of the stairs is covered in scorch marks, the words “The Marauders” carved messily across the top. A faint conversation drifts from the cracks.

Smiling, you trace the letters with the tips of your fingers before knocking.

“What’s the password?” Someone shouts from the other side.

Rolling your eyes, you try to think up a witty response. Coming up with nothing particularly hilarious, you settle with the first thing that comes to mind.

“Sirius Black sucks serious arse!” You call back, snickering.

Laughter erupts from behind the door from all of the boys except Sirius, who complains about your answer.

The door swings open and you step inside, revealing three boys lounging lazily near the one window.

Sirius’ dark hair pools across his boyfriend’s lap, the two of them passing a lit cigarette to each other. James sits on the other side of the window, placing his signature golden snitch on his bed before turning to beam at you.

His glasses lay crooked across the bridge of his nose and his curls poke up from his head in every which way, but he perks up at the sight of you.

“What brings you here, darling?” He asks, getting up from his seat. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, of course.”

You place a hand on his neck, just under his ear.

“Not tired.” You shrug, lips grazing over his own.

Gags sound off from the window.

“Oh, piss off.” James snorts, pulling away and leading you to his seat.

Your boyfriend throws his arm over your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. While the whole room smells of cigarette smoke, you can smell the distinct combination of freshly cut grass and broom oil on his white shirt.

“Wait a second,” You glance around at your makeshift circle. “is Pete still in the Hospital Wing?”

“Poor bastard got his nose smashed in with a cauldron.” Remus snorts, smoke leaving his lips in dark clouds. “Poppy needed him to stay the night to regrow some of the bones that got absolutely shattered.”

You cringe, remembering the loud crack that bounced off the walls of the Dungeons only just hours earlier. Poor kid almost couldn’t keep it together, not that you blame him.

The conversation lulls slightly, Sirius mostly dominating it with his insane plans to buy a Muggle motorcycle over the summer holiday without the Potters knowing. You snuggle closer to James, still wide awake.

“Still not tired?” He asks, lips gently placed on the top of your head.

“It feels like I’ll never fall asleep again.” You groan, the heel of your foot tapping against the floor serving as evidence to your predicament.

“Well there’s your problem.” Sirius exclaims, languidly pointing the cigarette between his painted fingers at your foot. “You’ve got too much energy.”

“Which is completely mental considering we had Potions and History of Magic today.” James continues. “The second Binns opens his mouth, I’m down for the count.”

“And that’s why you ask me and Remus for the notes—“

“Darling, when the hell am I going to use the story of Emeric the Evil in the real world?” James chuckles, raising one of his eyebrows at you.

“That’s not the point, Jamie—“ You argue.

“When did we get on a such a boring topic?” Sirius pretends to yawn. “I thought we were going to devise a plan to get rid of (Y/n)’s obscene amount of energy.”

“I guess we’ll just have to tire you out.” James teases, poking your side.

“Some music might do the trick.” Remus offers, snubbing out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray before striding towards the record player on the other side of the room.

“Yes!” James grins. “Play something we can dance to!”

You don’t know what Remus ends up putting on, but whatever it is, it certainly works.

As guitars and drums pound throughout the room, James takes your hands into his own and pulls you to the center.

You giggle and he spins you, socks gliding on top of the hardwood, making it easier to dance. Remus and Sirius mirror your movements closer to the window.

Hair flies in front of your faces and boisterous laughter bubbles out of each of you. Connected hands flail around, as you and James twist haphazardly.

One song turns into two, turns into a dozen more, but eventually you’re sprawled out on James’ Gryffindor blanket, forehead dotted with sweat and eyelids drooping uncontrollably.

You don’t bother looking at the clock next to you as James lays down on top of the covers with you.

The record player scratches to a halt and Sirius trots his way over to Remus, sleeping peacefully in his own bed.

“I guess it worked.” James whispers, pressing his chest against your back.

“It seems so, love.” You yawn into his plush pillow.

Your boyfriend presses his lips to the back of your neck, before you find yourself drifting off, dreams of dancing with him whirling in your mind.

•

All Character Taglist: @sexysirius @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco @mullthingsoverinthehotwater @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

James Potter Taglist: @natasharomanovf